


Quadrant to Quadrant

by Venstar



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Academy Era, Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Comedy, M/M, Rebel Spock, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Starfleet Academy, T'hy'la Big Bang 2016, Tarsus IV, Torture, Vulcan, Vulcan Mind Melds, maybe fluffy bits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:15:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 78,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5979727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venstar/pseuds/Venstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a TOS/AOS Academy AU where James Kirk became the golden boy of starfleet and Spock became the rebel son that decides that just because his physiology is divided in half, doesn’t mean that it should divide all of his life into two choices: Vulcan or Earth.  After moving on to an unexpected third choice, Starfleet sends Cadet Kirk on a secret mission to bag the Vulcan/Human hybrid when things go awkwardly wrong.  Will the cadet be able to complete his mission?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shipping

**Author's Note:**

> \--I wrote this for the T'hy'la Big Bang 2016. It is the first piece of Spirk/Star Trek fanfiction I wrote and I started this before my k/s advent piece last October. It's been a strange journey, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I had fun rolling around on the floor in a mix of self-doubt and hysterical laughter. I don't have a serious bone in my body, which I present to you.
> 
> \--hail satan, dustyjournal for being encouraging and not letting me throw in the towel. i didn't plan on writing a novel. it was only supposed to be 10,000 words long, but these boys wouldn't shut up.
> 
> \--huge shoutout to the TBB chatroom crew, you know who you are, you know the support you gave me and that I love u bros.
> 
> \--many thanks to my friends that had to deal with my hysterical WHAT IF's in their inbox and those that loaned me their names: pikamouse, flavialikestodraw, surrah, tevlek, murray, anitalife, narcissus-garden.
> 
> \-- don't hesitate to leave a comment or a kudos, I'M REALLY VERY FRIENDLY LIKE A PET PIRANHA THAT CUDDLES.

  

\--bless the artists for their gifts and patience,  [ArtbyMaryC](http://artbymaryc.tumblr.com/post/139735195381/thyla-big-bang-ilustrations-for-1amvengeances) and  [Crimsonswirls](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6068680)  and you can find me on  [tumblr](http://1amvengeance.tumblr.com/) .

\--bless the fanmixer [galaxydorks](http://galaxydorks.tumblr.com/) for their amazing [playlist](http://8tracks.com/leanconnoli/quadrant-to-quadrant) that was inspiring me up to the last inning.

 

A pair of jeans went whizzing past the face of a very sour looking cadet, who had inadvertently opened the door, at the very wrong moment, to the small box of a room that he shared with another cadet at Starfleet Academy.  He was blessed, or cursed as he saw it, to room with a very young and precocious eighteen year old terror that gave him heartburn.  Dr. Leonard H. McCoy quickly brought himself up short, shocked by his near miss and let out a quiet curse.  His dark head snapped around to watch the jeans slide down to the floor and his eyes burned a hole in the wall, following their progress, before he turned back to the still opened door. Unfortunately, it was just in time to get a sock thrown in his face.

     After hours spent at Starfleet Medical, all the pent up frustration and exhaustion, came screaming to the forefront of his bellow, as he pulled the offending item off of his face and threw it on the floor.  “What in the sam hill..JIM!?  If I didn’t know you had to take a psych eval before entering this hell hole, I would be questioning the legitimacy of your admission, right now!” He charged forward, holding up his arms to ward off any more articles of clothing, “What are you doing?”

     His young roommate was still flinging things wildly around the room, out from under his bed.   Dr. McCoy took a moment to stare around at the disaster zone.  Their beds were completely unmade, clothes were littered all over the floor; posters askew, books and medical journals knocked off their desks, things were so mixed up, he could hardly tell what belonged to him, and what belonged to the idiot.  They were not going to pass a surprise inspection anytime soon.  He glanced out into the hallway and saw their neighbor from across the hall staring wide eyed at the mess, his toiletry kit dangling from his fingers, toothbrush hanging from his open mouth.  Dr. McCoy glared at the kid, who closed his mouth around his toothbrush, looking like a fish freshly released with a hook in his mouth, before the door to chaos land was closed.

     “Hey Bones, have you seen my uniform jacket, the clean one?” Jim’s cheerful voice greeted him from underneath one of the twin beds.  He was wearing his red cadet trousers and his stocking covered feet kicking about in the open air.

     Bones looked down to the pair of wiggling feet, “Have you tried the closet...what the hell are you even doing?  God damnit...it’s gonna take hours to put this back to rights.  I just got back from my shift at Medical, and I want to crash, not clean up your shit!” He pressed the heel of his hand into his left eye.  He swore it was beginning to twitch, he could feel it.

     “I’m trying to get dressed, I have to go see Captain Pike,” came Jim’s voice, muffled from where it was buried under his bed.  

     “Oh, what’ve you done now?” Bones drawled, slowly picking his way through the mess that Jim had created.  He dropped his gear on his own bed and watched as Jim’s flailing legs stilled.

     “I don't know.  He didn’t say and I’m not telling him.”  Jim’s legs kicked back up, for a moment as he asked a follow up question.  “You don't think he found out about the-you-know-what did he?”

     “I haven’t the foggiest idea about that.  If Pike is calling you onto the carpet for one of your dumb ideas, then it ain't gonna matter how clean your clothes are.”

     “So not helping.” Jim sighed and began his search under his bed again.

     “Fine.  Have you tried your closet?” Bones asked again after one quick glance showed that was the one area of the room that hadn’t been torn up.  

     “My clos...” Jim stopped flinging things out from under his bed,  “Er....”  

     Bones made a noise of frustration.  “Please tell me that you checked there first!” He snapped, before marching over to where the idiot’s legs were sticking out from under the bed, grabbed an ankle and began yanking him out.

     Jim let out a surprised yelp and then began pushing himself out from under his bed to turn a crazed look on his best friend and roommate, “Uh, maybe not?”

     “I can't believe you” Bones said, dropping Jim’s leg and placing his hands on his hips to glare down at the idiot.  “If you can’t even find clean clothes, how the hell are you going to captain a starship through space!”

     “That’s what yeomen are for!” Jim protested, turning over to sit up, his hair sticking up all over the place and his black regulation undershirt was covered with ghosts of dust bunnies that the cleaners had missed.

     “No they’re not, you idiot.  They help you stay organized and make you sign shit.  They are not for doing your laundry or getting your little baby ass dressed in the morning.

     “Then I’ll captain naked!” Jim said, flinging his arms out in exasperation, “They’ll like that.”

     “No they won’t, I’ve seen your backside, I feel sorry for them already.”  Bones threw over his shoulder as he stomped over to Jim’s closet.  He flung the doors open and stood there for a few minutes.  “Aha!”  He grabbed the cuff of a somewhat, clean uniform jacket and tossed it to the kid.

     “Thanks, I owe you one.” breathed Jim, clapping his hand on Bones’s shoulder, rushing up to take the jacket from him.

     “You owe me more than one.” Bones said, watching as Jim struggled into the jacket, fastening it as he slammed his feet into his boots.  “Just stay calm and don’t give him any sass when you talk to him.” He added, a little more kindly.

     “Sass is your department.”  Jim ran a hand through his close cropped, blond hair and  brushed his hands down his jacket.  “Sorry about the mess, I’ll put everything back to rights when I return.” He glanced around as he double checked that his fastenings had closed and he didn’t have any socks clinging to him.

     “Don’t worry about it, I’m used to picking up after a toddler.” said Bones, waving him away and shaking his head at the mess.  He dropped onto his bed and began to sort his medical gear from his Academy schoolwork, “I may even have a nap while I wait for your crazy ass to report on how you managed to sweet talk your way out of something that would get anyone else expelled.”

     “Hey, I’ve been an exemplary roommate and what’s that proverb?  ‘Some rules are meant to be broken’?”

     Bones rolled his eyes.  “Whatever, just go.” He said with a wave of his hand.

     Jim flashed him one more smile before he flew out the door, a blur of red.   

 

   

     Once outside the dormitory, Jim took a moment to slow himself down and walk as calmly as he could.  The cool, clammy San Francisco air blew against his hot cheeks from his exertions to find his jacket.  He pulled at the collar and flat of his jacket, trying to let as much air touch his skin as possible as he hustled along.

     A single, slow, deep breath had him going over his mental list of ‘Things We Just Don’t Talk About in Public.’  Jim continued to frown and mutter at the pavement as he walked, even after he reviewed his list.   He still came to the conclusion that his current pranks weren’t high enough on the damaging scale to get called in to the Starfleet Headquarters, although, some of his most brilliant ideas did tend to get away from him.   Whatever Jim had done, it was serious enough to warrant an official meeting at ‘fleet HQ, with his mentor, Captain Christopher Pike.  Right now, Jim could only guess at what the meeting was about and it was eating him alive.  Uncertainty didn’t sit well on his young shoulders, it more often led to trouble than it did a lifeline.  

     With a quick roll of his shoulders, he began to whistle softly, a small tune to settle his nerves and project a calm he didn’t feel.  Jim walked to the closest Air Tram station located on campus and was soon shuttled across the bay to the gleaming center that was Starfleet Headquarters.

     Arriving at the high-rise building that housed Starfleet Command, he walked briskly into the atrium and pressed the lift's up button.  He caught a glimpse of his red uniform reflected back at him in the glass and steel of the sleek building.  One day, he thought, instead of a warped red color it would reflect the command gold.  Jim frowned down at the glossy marble floor in thought.

     There were always the expectations that, like father like son, he was there to shoot for the moon and then the stars beyond it, captain a starship and then become a ‘fleet Admiral.  Other people’s expectations of what you could and should do, were the hardest to achieve without some sort of obstacle getting in the way.  Jim frowned up into the reflective glass, those current obstacles were other people’s opinions that he was only where he was, because of who his dad was, versus what his own natural abilities were.  

     Expectations suck.  They led to people getting hurt or disappointed, sometimes they were harmless and everything came out okay.  This wasn’t his father’s familiar Starfleet anymore now that he was retired.  It was bolder, brighter and bigger than when it was when his old man had been traipsing around the systems, and Jim was just as determined to make it his.  When push comes to shove, Jim was going to push back hard at everyone’s expectations and come back the winner.

     Still gazing hard at the red and envisioning the gold, he watched as the drab colors of the personnel at HQ reflected in the glass changed into a moving mixture of command gold, science blues and engineering red, a Starfleet rainbow of bodies that he would one day be in command of.  Missions to go on, space to explore, diplomacy and research on microscopic specks of space dust that hadn’t even been identified and classified yet!  Jim smiled, as far as he was concerned, none of his other classmates got as excited about unknown space dust as he did.  

     Jim would have his turn exploring where no one had gone before - the lift pinged and the doors whooshed open, his multi-colored vision disappeared and the dull greys, blacks and reds once more appeared.  Several staff officers, a handful of ensigns and yeomans spilled out into the atrium.   Jim stood to the side as they all rushed by.  He resisted the urge to ask one of the yeoman if they did, in fact, do any of the Captain’s laundry.

     Just outside the the little alcove leading to Captain Pike’s office, Jim stood, shifting his weight back and forth.  Stepping over the threshold into the alcove, he hesitated and gave another tug down on his jacket once more.  Pike’s secretary Martha Landon, was stationed behind her desk, her blond head tilted to the side, lips pursed in concentration, while her fingers flew over several PADDS, entering in data from reports, fielding calls and messages.  Aside from Martha and her desk, the alcove contained a small waiting area and it’s walls were plastered with smiling pictures of past and present admirals, flags, pennants, pictures of cadets who had won awards.  Jim frowned at the recruitment poster on the wall next to him, that had his stupid smiling face on it, encouraging youth’s to join the ‘fleet.  

     Martha looked up and cleared her throat.  After mentally eviscerating the need for such useless propaganda, and flicking it with his fingers, he gave Martha a nervous smile.  She returned it with her own slow, sweet smile, but he could tell by the twinkle in her eye that she would be no help whatsoever.

     He gave her his best smile, “You know what this is about, don’t you?”  

     She began a low chuckle and hit the comm button, announcing him “Cadet James Tiberius Kirk, to see you, Captain.”

     “Damn, all three names.  You know it’s bad when they use all three names.” Jim muttered nervously to himself.  He smoothed his hair once more.

     From Martha’s comm, Jim heard a curt “Send him in,”

     Martha waved him forward as she rose to palm open Pike’s door.  Jim inhaled the air of freedom one last time and walked with brisk steps into the older man’s domain.  He winked at Martha before he turned to toss a jaunty salute at Captain Pike.  “ _Ave, Imperator, morituri te salutant_.” Jim said with the motion.  Martha gave one delicate eye roll and left, returning to her desk.  The door closed behind her with a soft ‘shnkt'.

     He hadn’t gotten a reaction out of Captain Pike with his little joke.  Jim swallowed hard, his throat dry as he eyeballed the stern Captain with his greying hair.  He could remember a time when Captain Pike didn’t look so old and weighed down.  While Jim loved the stars like a fish loved the sea, he was not looking forward to the consequences that would come from captaining his own starship.  Before he stepped up to Captain Pike’s desk, Jim cleared his throat with a small “Uhrm,” and gave a sharper salute and stood at attention.  

     The old space dog was lounging behind his desk, swinging back and forth with his hands crossed over his chest.  A satisfied, predatory animal came to Kirk's mind, as if someone combined an ancient earth creature called a sloth with a great white shark, and this was the creature that they produced.  It  ate cadets for breakfast in it’s leisure time.

     “Cadet James Tiberius Kirk,” said Pike, drawling out his name.

     Jim swallowed again, through his dry throat at the use of his rank and three names.  Uh oh, he thought, not good.  “Captain Pike.” said Jim, he nodded slightly.  It was best to maintain manners and pretend nothing was wrong, unless you counted the fifteen, no, twenty some odd pranks and security violations that were currently happening.  He glanced nervously to his left to the clock on the wall of Pike’s office and thought….exactly 23 pranks at this exact minute.

     “Kirk,” said Pike, drawing out his one syllable last name.

     “Yes, sir,” Jim replied polite and firm.

     “Do you know why I’ve called you to my office?” asked Pike, leaning forward, eyebrows pulling together.

     Jim forced his lips to stillness and looked out Pike’s office window.  He wasn’t about to fall for the oldest trap in the book, give a person enough rope and they’ll hang themselves with it.  “No, sir, you did not specify the reason in your summons.  I would not presume-”

     Pike snorted, “Of course you would.  Why do you think I’ve called you in here?” He tapped his index finger on his desk.

     Jim lowered his gaze from the San Francisco skyline to look at his mentor, before replying, “No idea, the possibilities are endless though.”  Jim gave a small shrug, not moving his hands from where they were locked straight at his side.

     Captain Pike continued to stare and Jim began to sweat, but he still managed to keep from squirming.  It was getting tough, someone was going to have to make the first move and Jim decided that sometimes, the best defense is a good offense.  He looked down at Captain Pike and let out a sigh before letting his face fall.

     “Do you need my face again?  Do you need to parade me around somewhere, get more recruits, make some more money off of this?” Jim circled his hand over his face and grimaced.  “I thought you said that I would never have to be put in the charity auction ever again.  Are you telling me that you lied to me?”  Jim stopped talking for a minute and took a deep breath in memory.

     He could still see to this day, the large Starfleet banquet hall filled with tables, chairs, mustard colored bunting and tall holo flower arrangements full of roses and lilies.  The white auction paddles with bold black numbers that had immediately shot up as his listing came up and he had to walk down the center aisle, smiling.  The eleven bidders, that remained after the price went up, up and up, knocking out the rest of the room’s attempts.  All eleven, waving their paddles frantically as they quietly fought for him.  Jim’s grin became wooden, but he held it steady all throughout his embarrassment, while he mentally strangled Admiral Komack for making him participate.  

     Six of the final bidders were a mix of male and female humans, the other five were aliens and three of those he couldn’t even begin to figure out what gender they were.  On the eve of his ‘date night’ with the winner, in desperation, he cut the date short because those tentacles were everywhere that Jim didn’t want them to be.  He still wasn’t sure what gender the winner actually was.  Jim gave a small shudder, and came out of his journey down memory lane to see Pike’s eyes glinting back at him.

     Captain Pike heaved a sigh,“Alright, alright, but don’t think that I couldn’t have cracked you open for some sort of confession if I had wanted to.” He shook his finger in Jim’s direction.

     “I would never doubt you for a minute sir.”

     “Uh huh.  At ease Kirk, take a seat.  I have something to discuss with you that doesn’t involve issuing demerits or kitchen duty, today.”  Pike’s voice settled into a serious tone as he waved at one of the chairs across from his desk.

     Jim released his body from the stiff pose of being at attention and threw himself into a chair as Captain Pike began to describe the qualities and test scores of a prospective cadet.  Jim was impressed and he asked when the cadet would enter into the system.  This is where it got disappointing, the prospect had declined his admission.  Jim leaned back into a full slouch and looked to the floor.  He had so many questions, it was hard to know where to start.  

     This was the first time he had ever been privy to anything regarding Starfleet admissions.  Well, that didn’t involve him purposefully hacking into Starfleet’s databases for funsies.  Learning about another cadet, well, not even a real cadet's confidential information and promise, made him half uncomfortable, half curious.  

     Jim steepled his fingers in front of his lips and lifted his eyes to gaze steadily at the older man.  Pike wanted something from Jim and it had to do with this nameless prospective cadet that had declined admission.  Pike had gone about it the best way he knew how to handle Jim, show him a puzzle and then hold it out of reach, so he decided to fish.  “I don't understand sir?  The prospective cadet turned down their acceptance into Starfleet.  Any prospect has that right.”

     “He does have that right.” Pike nodded in agreement, “I was asked to intervene as a personal favor.  I personally made contact with him and before I could even get a word out, he said 'No' and walked away.”  Jim looked at him with shock, “Well, I did manage to get a few words in.”

     “And you think I'll have better luck?” asked Jim, pointing to himself in disbelief.

     “Yes.” Pike gave a brisk nod.

     “Because?” Jim drew the word out.

     “He can smell a Starfleet officer at 500 paces.”

     “Now it sounds even more impossible, go on.” Jim made circle motions with his hand.

     “You’re not an officer and while you look like a 'fleet brat, and for the most part, act like a 'fleet brat, you don't think like a 'fleet brat.”

     “So I've been told.  I was just re-told again yesterday as a matter fact, by Admiral Komack.  Speaking of Komack, when's his retirement party?” Jim asked with feigned interest.  Komack had been making his life a living hell the minute his application had crossed Starfleet property.  He was sure  Komack had started gunning for him while he was still fresh from his Mother’s womb.  Jim shook his head to try and excise thoughts of that man out of his head.

     “Probably not for a long time, and don't you dare try to hack his files and put him down for early retirement.” Pike shook his finger sternly at Jim.

     “Well I hadn't thought of that, but now that you suggest it, I might--” said Jim with a considering look on his face.

     Pike interrupted Jim, “The prospect who turned us down is Vulcan.”

     “Vulcan?”  Jim scooted to the end of his seat with interest, “wait, you mean to say that a Vulcan finally, actually applied to Starfleet?  How cool would it be to finally have a Vulcan in Starfleet!”

     “Exactly.”

     “Wait a minute, he said no though, you said he said no!  How did you manage to lose the first Vulcan to apply!?” Jim asked, his arms flinging out in his surprise and looking around the room with wide eyes before settling back down and glaring at Pike.  “Man, are you losing your touch.  Granted, he’s allowed to decline, but, sir, if you failed, why do you think I’ll get any further with this prospect?”

     “Good question,” Pike continued, “Did you know that Vulcans, love puzzles?  They love using logic to figure out complicated, pretty little puzzles, and since you’re the most complicated, pretty little puzzle I currently have at my disposal, I’m going to put you in his way.”

     Pike watched as Jim’s face went still from shock, draining of color until he was completely white, and then turning animated with anger, as he turned a splotchy red color that crept up from under the collar of his uniform.  “Whuh...did you just say what I think you said!  Ugh I think you did! First, thank you for thinking I’m pretty, I think I hate you.  And second, because someone else in Starfleet thought I was pretty as well, I had to endure that embarrassingly stupid auction and now this!  All because he wouldn't come running when you went and batted your eyes full of Starfleet and bullshit at him, now I'm supposed to go after him and..and..appeal to his Vulcan senses and let him...play...with...me?” Jim gestured up and down himself.

     Pike crooked a smile, enjoying himself.   “I don't think it'll come to that.”

     “It damn well won't!  I'm not Starfleet's little golden whore!” Jim slammed his fist down on the armrest of his chair, leaning forward aggressively.  “You can’t use me like that!”

     “Jim.” said Pike, softly.

     “Don't you think for one moment, that I don't know what I'm called behind my back by the Admiralty.  Don't ever think I don't know THAT.  I allow Starfleet to use my likeness when you and Martha make up their recruitment packets and crap, but that's it.  My image, not my body!”  Jim’s hand knifed through the air, as if he could cut that part out of his Academy experience.

     “Jim.” Pike repeated, trying to break through to the angry young man.

     “This is beyond the call of duty and the greater good!” Jim's voice began to rise before cracking like glass on the word good.

     “JAMES.” said Pike, lowering his voice and thundering it out.

     “What!?” Jim yelled back in exasperation.

     “It's Ambassador Sarek's son.”

     “Shit.” said Jim, flopping back into his chair, his rigid indignation leaving him.

     “Exactly, and for the record, I do NOT call you that.” Pike said, staring pointedly at Jim, eyebrows lifted high on his forehead.

     “I didn't think you did.” Jim said, looking away, slightly chagrined.

     “Anyways, back to the subject...” Pike began, trying to shift the conversation.

    “So, what, he make some sort of bad decision or something that upset Mummy and Daddy and this gives you the right to hunt him down, using me as bait?” Jim interrupted Pike.

     “If you want to call turning down entry to the Vulcan Science Academy and Starfleet making a bad decision, then yes, he made a bad decision.  That or he's throwing a Vulcan sized temper tantrum.  I don’t really know, take your pick, but his Mom reached out to me first, not the Ambassador.  If you think Vulcan’s are stubborn, wait till you meet the Ambassador’s wife.  I’ve since spoken with them both, which is what led to my initial failure.  I won’t be able to retry again.  He’s a smart cookie.”

     “Wow, he turned down both," Jim rubbed at his jaw.  It was staggering to learn that someone had gained entrance into both Academies and chose to decline them.  “But, why?”

     “I won't tell you why-”

     “But!” Jim interrupted with a whine, he was dying to know why the guy refused.

     “No.” Captain Pike held up a hand.  “This is a personal request from the Ambassador’s wife and the Ambassador to me, along with a promise that limits any information I pass on.  That being said, I know I have no right to ask your help with this.  I’m not even sure I can officially sanction it.  I’m gonna have to cobble something together with Martha’s help.  If you do this for me, I promise to move you up through the ranks as quickly as I can.  There’ll be some promotions I won’t be able to touch without raising a shit load of eyebrows, but I know that you're gunning for a starship.  I can see to it that you end up in a position to captain one sooner, rather than later.”

     Jim let out a soft huff and leaned back in his chair to look out of Pike’s window again.  He really did have a great view of the skyline of San Francisco.  Jim could sense Captain Pike watching him.  Moving up through the ranks quickly to get to his ship faster would be a dream come true, but it would put him there faster than he had planned.  He’d also end up in Captain Pike’s office position faster as well and he wasn’t looking forward to that.

     One look at Pike and Jim could see a frown beginning to build on his face.  Maybe he should keep Pike on edge just a bit longer.  How dare he offer something so priceless for something so trivial.  Irrational anger at this unknown Vulcan flooded Jim, but he batted it down and rested his chin in his hand.  Pike shifted in his peripheral vision as he waited for Jim’s decision.  Would he accept the task and the perks...or not?

     Pike began to worry as he watched Jim lean back and stare out his window.  When Jim finally turned back to look at him, he saw that the youthful cadet’s natural animation had come to a complete stop.  His face had fallen into serious lines, his blue eyes were studying him seriously. Pike waited for what felt like an eternity again as he watched Jim weigh the benefits against the task at hand.  

     He waited impatiently for whatever was passing through Jim’s mind to make it’s way out.  Pike almost rolled his eyes when it became apparent that Jim was going to make him wait for it.  Jim leaned forward, placing both elbows on the arms of the chair and shook his head back and forth.  “No,” he said.  The breath Pike didn’t even know he was holding rushed out of him.  

     “No, you won’t do it or no, you won’t take the perks?” asked Pike, teeth clenched as he tried to pull more information out of his stubborn, favorite cadet.  Jim grinned at him once before his face again fell back into serious lines.  

     Jim clarified his answer.  “Yes to the task, no to the perks.  I won’t do it that way.  I’ll get the command of a starship one day, but not like that.  It’s bad enough I’m going to have to deal with all the normal reasons of how I made it to Captain in the first place, thanks to Dad.  To have to add this as a burden to win or lose depending on the outcome of the situation, and it would be a burden if anyone found out, a huge, horrible-”

     Pike had never been so happy someone had told him no, he relaxed back into his chair and flicked his fingers out.  “Deals like this are made every time one of the Admirals so much as breaks wind.  It’s not unusual, considering how much air they’re normally filled with.  It’s called jockeying for position, kid.”  

     “I know.  Believe me, I know what it is and I’m surprised that you’re even suggesting it.  I am slightly offended, you know.  Thinking you can buy me with something I can get on my own, with or without you.”  Jim said, this time he was the one shaking his finger at Pike.

     “Well, that’s a comfort and maybe I’m thinking you can’t lie to a Vulcan.  At least, not for longer than the five seconds it takes for humans to forget that Vulcans aren’t human and touch them.  Do you think I’d even let you get close to him for one minute if you took that deal?  Do you think I’d want someone like that offering a place at Starfleet to him?  We’d lose him faster than you can blink if I sent someone who had been bribed to fetch him.”

     Jim stared hard at Pike who just stared back at him silently.  “Then why did you even offer it?  Oh, you need to make it look like he made the decision on his own terms, don’t you? You’re crazy, you know that?  You want him so badly, but you’re trying to get him to decide something for himself.  Not because Starfleet is drooling after having the first and only Vulcan in Starfleet, or because his whole species traditions made him do what they wanted him to do, not because someone ‘bought’ him, but because-” Jim trailed off, floundering for the answer.

     “I need him to feel like he made this choice, for himself, as an individual, based on what he wants, not what everyone else wants or expects from him.” Pike said quietly, filling in what Jim was trying to voice.  “Hopefully, we can get him to figure out he wants to be here, and soon.”

     “You’re forgetting that Vulcans don’t do emotions remember.  I doubt he’d care about ‘feeling’ wanted or accepted.  It’s not in their nature, right?”  Jim looked questioningly at Pike, confused that the old dog had brought up feelings while talking about Vulcans.

     “Well, feelings and emotions aside, if anyone understands the unique situation this kid has found himself in, I’d expected it to be you.”  Pike said pointedly, tapping his fingers on his desk.

     “You’re still one sneaky bastard, you know that?  You’re also really bad at telling secrets before you bribe someone.”

     Pike smiled, “I’ve still got some tricks up my sleeve, you wouldn’t have remembered anything in the morning and you're literally going to be on a need to know basis and you don't need to know much of anything about him right now.  I know you like a good puzzle as well.  It'll be interesting to see the two of you try to crack each other open.”

     “I'll take you apart.”  Jim grumbled, sourly.  He slouched back into his chair.

     "I like my pieces where they are, thank you.”

     “All right, what _will_ you let me know?” asked Jim finally.

 

    

     When Jim was finally released, he walked, no he’s pretty sure he stumbled out of the meeting with Pike, still in a bit of a daze.  He wasn’t fully aware of his surroundings until he found himself standing in front of his door, without really knowing how he had got there.  He blinked as Bones opened the door at the right moment, or maybe it was the wrong moment.  Bones was dressed in his civvies, rather than his cadet uniform or Starfleet medical scrubs.  The older man crossed his arms and leaned against the door jamb, barring Jim’s way back inside.  “Well, how many demerits this time, or are they actually going to throw you out.”

     “What?” Jim asked staring up at his roommate.  He hadn’t heard a word Bones had said.

     “You alright?” Bones asked with concern.  He raised a hand to lift up one of Jim’s eyelids.  A pair of annoyed blue eyes flashed at him before Jim yanked his head away.

     “That’s gross and I’m ok.  We need to talk.”  Jim said quietly, he raised a hand and began to push Bones back into the room by his shoulder.

     “Uh oh.” Bones stepped away from Jim’s hand, into their room.  He waved Jim inside, “Come on, get changed and I’ll take you somewhere they don’t mind how old you are and then we’ll talk.”

     Jim walked in, stripped off his cadet reds and pulled on the closest things to hand.  He paused for a quick second to glance at Bones and saw that he wasn’t dressed for anything fancy.  Once his jeans were fastened, he put his boots back on, grabbed his favorite grey cardigan off the back of his chair and pulled it on over the black undershirt he didn’t bother changing out of.  God how he loved Starfleet’s regulation undergarments.  

     Bones grabbed an umbrella before the two of them made their way back outside.  Jim looked up at the open sky, it was cloudy but not raining.  He looked at Bones and his umbrella, Bones shrugged.  “You never know what this crazy California weather is going to do.  Come on, I’ll even let you hold my arm.”  He stuck his elbow out and Jim slid his arm through it in relief.  

     At times like this when he was stressed, Jim liked nothing more than to find something or someone to find physical comfort in.  When he had been assigned one Leonard H. McCoy as a roommate, it was all the older man could do, to keep the octopus that Jim was off of his person the first semester in.  Fortunately, McCoy had a young daughter and was on the M.D. track with Starfleet, so taking care of people came natural to the gruff, grumpy man.   McCoy soon learned that Jim was perfectly harmless, if not strangely exuberant and affectionate with his closest friends.    

     “You ever do something you didn’t want to do, but wanted to do anyway?” Jim asked, hunching his shoulders and edging closer to his friend, speaking in a low voice.

     “I’m taking you out drinking aren’t I?”

     “Did I say thanks?  That’s not what I’m talking about though.”  Jim shook his head and studied the pavement below, stepping over the cracks in the sidewalk.

     Bones waited as Jim quietly turned the wheels and cogs in his head.  He wasn’t a mind reader and he wasn’t going to start trying to do it now.  Jim had something he wanted to tell him and with a little patience, the kid would puzzle it out and figure out what he needed to tell him.

     “You’ve saved people before, haven’t you?”

     “In my line of work?  Yeah, I’ve even saved your sorry-ass life a couple of times.” Bones said and gave Jim a quick nudge with his elbow.

     “I can’t help it if there are tons of alien dishes served at almost every restaurant and that I don’t know that I’m deathly allergic to them.  It’s not my fault, I thought it was in the radish family, not related to strawberries.”  Jim laughed and followed it with a sigh.  “That’s still not what I meant.”  Jim chewed on his thumbnail as he walked in silence with his arm hooked with Bones.  He began to shift his weight side to side, rocking them as they walked on as he tried to figure out how to tell Bones what Pike had asked him to do.

     “Then why don’t you literally stop tap-dancing and just spit it out man!  I’m too old, with too little patience to play these teenager games.  You know I do have finals to study for.”

     Jim looked up at the walking grump mountain next to him, “Those aren’t for a couple of months!”

     “You try having fifty million bones and organs and medical terminology to remember and we’ll see how far out you start studying.”

     “Fifty million bones?  Where do you get these numbers?”

     “That includes aliens or humanoid type aliens and humans.”  Bones shuddered.  “It’s a mess out there and half the stuff they’re teaching us, they only have half the information on!  Do you know how close-mouthed Vulcans are about sharing any of their biological and physiological information?  They’re like Fort Knox, no matter that they’re a founding member of the Federation, you’d think that sort of information sharing would have been a requirement!”

     “Speaking of Vulcans,” began Jim, finally finding his introduction to the topic.

     “Uh huh, were we?” Bones asked absentmindedly.  “They’re not on the top of my to do list.”  

     “Interesting choice of words there, old man.” Jim said, his voice trailing off as he looked to the ground, his brow furrowing in concentration.

     Bones glanced down at Jim again and rolled his eyes.  He pulled on his arm to steer a now silent Jim through the crowded streets until they reached a quieter, older section of the city.  Jim looked around him with interest, never having been out this way before.  

     “Where are we?” He asked as they came to a halt halfway up the block to a small bar wedged between an Italian restaurant and a burger joint.  

     “The Shady Lady.” Bones pointed up at the sign, “Can’t you read?”

     “Bones,” Jim said, pointing down at the posters plastering the wall, “this is a drag joint.”

     “Thought you might like it.” Bones said with a half smile on his face.

     “Why you sweet old thing.” said Jim batting his eyes up at his roommate.

     “Shaddup and get in.” Bones said and gave an affectionate push with his hand.

     Jim smiled and waltzed through the door that his southern gentleman of a friend was holding open.

      Bones sipped at his whiskey while he thought about what Jim had just told him, which wasn’t much.  He set the glass down and turned his head.  “You want me to come with you somewhere, but you can’t tell me where, pick up something I can’t know about, to bring it back to someone I can’t know about either.”

     “Pretty much, yeah.”  Jim sat sipping at his virgin Pina Colada.   Bones had refused to buy him a real one with alcohol in it.  Jim had been old enough to be let into the bar during the day hours, but Bones was being an uber parent, even refusing to let Jim use his fake I.D.  He gave Bones’s drink the evil eye, hoping he’d go away somewhere and he could sneak it from him.  As if reading his thoughts, Bones picked his drink up off the bar top and leaned away.

     “Now I’m serious, you can’t go waltzing off on this thing without knowing more details.  I mean, what is Pike thinking?”

     “I know the details, it’s just you who can’t know the details.” Jim said, slurping loudly from his straw.  If Bones was going to be annoying, Jim was going to be extra annoying.

     “Why in the hell not?  Should you even be talking with me about this?” Bones flicked his eyes around the bar, but the lunch crowd was kind of light.  The bartender was at the other end, washing glasses and the performer was in the middle of the stage, singing along to her loud music.

     “Pike said I could take you if I told you.”

     Bones sputtered on his whisky, “What if I don’t want to go, that’s an awful high risk to take, cornering me into going.  This is stupid.  Space is stupid.”

     “Starfleet operates in space, stupid.” Jim said, before he blew bubbles into his drink.

     “If you want my cooperation, you’ll be nice.” Bones said, poking Jim in the chest with one finger.

     Jim grabbed the front of Bones’s shirt with both of his hands, “Please.  Please go with me.  You’ll get to go to, um, somewhere and you’ll love it, I promise.”

     “Well, when you put it that way, sign me up.” Bones said, trying to brush Jim’s hands off of his shirt.

     “Perfect.” said Jim, draining the rest of his Pina Colada and then snatching Bones’s glass and draining that to the accompaniment of Bones’s loud yell.

     “DAMMIT JIM!”

     “Let’s go!”  Jim swiveled around and jumped down to the floor.  One of the performers shook her chest at him.  He gave her a quick wink and salute before he walk out of the front door, followed by a very disgruntled roommate.

 

      

     They had returned to their dorm room, their hallmate was just opening his door again and glanced at the pair as they entered their room.  Bones gave him an 'I'm watching you' motion with his hand before he turned to follow Jim inside.  He heard an audible gulp from the poor sucker that was unfortunate to live on their same floor.  Bones threw himself face down on his narrow bed as Jim hauled out his traveling case and began to throw items inside.  Bones rolled over and sat up on his bed, his PADD dangling from his hands and watched as Jim stood in front of his own bed, frowning down at his open, half-filled travel case.  “Problems?” asked Bones.

     “Yeah.  I don’t know what to pack for Vulcan.” Jim said absentmindedly.  He rubbed the back of his neck and then fuzzed up the top of his head using both hands.  “I should probably look up travel recommendations right?  Like what to pack for an overnight visit, the essentials to survive in an inhospitable desert climate for humans or something.”

     “Whoa, ho, hey, back up!  Vulcan.  As in the planet Vulcan?” asked Bones, jaw dropping.  “Now wait just a god damned minute, you didn’t say we were going, I mean that you were going to Vulcan.”  Bones glanced at his own travel case that was still blessedly empty and saw it as a good sign.  He looked back over to the crazy kid that liked to withhold important information.

     “Didn’t I?” muttered Jim, turning to his closet.  He threw his cadet uniform from that morning into the case, “I’ll get the other one cleaned before I go.  You want me to send yours in as well?”

     “I’m not packing until you tell me that you’re actually going to actual Vulcan.” growled Bones.

     “Yep, going to Vulcan.  Do you want me to send your uniform in as well?”

     Jim had never sent their uniforms to be cleaned, usually it was Bones that did it.  “No,” he said, “I’ll send them.  Knowing you, they’d come back missing the important pieces.”

     “Dress for success,” Jim said with a wink.  “Yes, I need to go to Vulcan, pick something up and then come back.  I need you to come with me to Vulcan and then we’ll separate for the return trip.”

     “Whoa, hey, hell no!” Bones began to stand, his PADD held before him as if it could shield him from Jim.  “You said nothing about separation, you said nothing about Vulcan, this doesn’t feel right!”

     “Where I’m going, what I’m doing, you can’t know and you can’t go with me afterwards.” Jim said, criss crossing his arms back and forth in the universal sign for no.

     Bones let out another exasperated growl and thrust out the one hand holding his PADD, to shove it into Jim’s chest in order to punctuate his words, “The hell I can’t to both counts. You’re asking me to come with you on this mysterious trip to Vulcan and then you’re gonna ditch me?”

     “Yes and ow, knock it off you big sissy!”  Jim tried to wrestle the PADD from Bones.

     “Jesus Christ kid, could you be serious for one moment.” Bones said, he raised his hand above his head, holding his PADD out of reach.

     Jim gave one last futile jump before he sighed and went to grab his own PADD off of his desk.  He thumbed through it until he found the encrypted message from Pike.  He enlarged the part that he could show Bones and shoved it in the older man’s face.  Bones jerked back and squinted at the screen.  It showed a piece of a receipt with a business logo on it.  “ _Space Post.  You stamp it, we ship it Quadrant to Quadrant.  See us for ALL your SPECIAL shipping needs_ ,” Bones read out loud. “Hrrmmm.”  He immediately pulled up his PADD and began typing away.

     “What are you doing?” Jim asked, looking over his shoulder, “Hey stop that!”  Jim reached for Bones’s PADD again.

     Bones elbowed him in the ribs, earning an oof and a glare from the idiot.  “I’m doing my god damned research.  I bet you didn’t even look into that company.  Someone has to be the voice of reason.  What are you shipping from Vulcan?”  Bones turned his attention back to his search.

     “Me.”


	2. Red

     The population of Starbase 6 ebbed and flowed around a rough looking man standing just outside one of its docking ports.  A few, less world weary travelers and officers, stared openly at the pointed ears, the delicately angled eyebrows and the slightly green tinged skin that marked the man as a Son of Vulcan or Romulus.   They whispered to each other, speculating about his origins until they were met with a hard, dark-eyed, unblinking stare.  Some glanced away in haste, a few waved and others smiled once they were caught, but they were all dispassionately ignored and unacknowledged.  

     “You alright there, Mr. Spock?” A voice asked from behind.

     The man looked over his shoulder and responded to the question, “I am complete at this location, Mr. Kyle.  Have you finished diagnosing the reduced performance of the engines?  As this is one of the Space Post’s newest addition to her fleet, I am surprised to find a significant reduction in maximum warp speed available.”

     “Oh, to be sure there’s always a bug or two to work out in a new ship, especially for her first run out.  We’re lucky all the doors and hatches are working properly.” Mr. Kyle said, hitching up his trousers.  Spock eyed the man's girth.  Mr. Kyle winked at Spock after catching him notice the move.  

     As the crowd outside their docking port suddenly swelled, Spock moved further back, he found refuge leaning against the frame of the entrance, with his back to the flow of humanity.  Tired of the staring that he was receiving, though he would not admit it, he pulled a rolled up grey knit cap out of his jacket pocket and jammed it over his head.  He simply admitted to himself that he found that the temperature of the interior of the Starbase less than optimal, for a Vulcan.  “I was not aware that there was an infestation on board Mr. Kyle.  Is this something that we should be concerned about? I do not wish for my shipments to be contaminated.”

     Mr. Kyle laughed, “No Mr. Spock, not literal bugs.  Haaaa, Vulcan humor.  I love it.”

     Spock raised an eyebrow, which sent Mr. Kyle into another fit of mirth.  Mr. Kyle finished his chortle with a sigh and then rubbed his stomach.  “What I said earlier, when I asked if you were alright there, I didn’t mean if you were completely present as a singular unit standing in one location.  You just looked….I only wondered if anything was the matter.  Didn’t think a small engine snaffu was cause for such concern.”

     “Ah.  I was reflecting on the issue with the engines as well as the fact that it would appear that a Starship full of cadets in training has managed to dock next to us.” Spock said looking over his shoulder into the corridor.  Together, he and Mr. Kyle watched as the increased stream of people of said cadets, flowed past them.  

     “Fancy that.” said Mr. Kyle, scratching his stomach again.  He looked to his comm unit and entered in a text.  It pinged with a response and after reading it, he eyed Spock for a moment before saying, “My contact here says that they’re to dock and transfer to other ships located down the way a bit,” he pointed down the corridor to their right.  “They’ll all take off later tonight to do whatever useless things it is that ships filled with Starfleet cadets do.  Feel like joining them?”  At this, Spock jerked his head back from his perusal and stared at Mr. Kyle who raised his hands and said, “I know you’re wasted on me, but fine, fine, whatever you want.  I was just asking.”

     “Cease asking.” Spock said sharply.  For a moment he wondered if he should stay with the ship while Mr. Kyle located the source of the inefficiencies within the engines.  He weighed his choices and decided that he had enough of Mr. Kyle’s conversation from this last trip and he could do with a wider variety of conversational partners, if any were to be had at this Starbase or complete silence, whichever came first.  

     Spock walked away from Mr. Kyle and turned to enter into the bustling hallway, now filled to the brim with the red of Starfleet cadets.  Spock sighed internally and forced himself to achieve some level of calm, before he departed for the deck that housed the eateries and entertainment.

 

 

     “I still don’t like this,” Bones said as he stalked through Starbase 6, Jim practically running to keep up with him.  He was leading his friend out to leave him on a fool’s errand, none of that sat well with him, and he was going to keep telling his idiot friend this until he listened and called off this cock-a-mamie scheme.  Pike wouldn’t punish Jim for saying no.

     “Slow down old man, you’re gonna give yourself a coronary and I don’t have enough training to resuscitate a senior citizen.”  Jim said, his travel case hitting another passersby leg, “Whoops, sorry!”  If he didn’t already look like a green horn of a cadet, knocking half the Starbase off it’s feet with his case was a pretty good clue about his inexperience with travel.  How was Bones even managing to not hit anyone with his?  Jim managed to speed up enough to be able to look around Bones’s shoulder and finally saw that people were jumping out of his friend’s way.  He looked up and yup, sure enough, Bones was wearing a hard glare that said ‘Get out of the way or get fucked.’ I’d move for that, thought Jim.  

     “We have to be on board ship in 30 minutes, kid, to do our check in.  The faster we go, the faster we can check in, and I can get out of this monkey suit and we can go on shore leave until the _Thresher_ heads out.  I need a drink that’s not 100% synthenol.  You gave me so little time to pack, I couldn’t bring my secret stash with me”  Bones grumbled and kept going at full speed walk, even if he could hear Jim huffing and puffing after him.  

     Jim rolled his eyes at his friend’s tirade.  Instead, he began to check out the other occupants of the Starbase, as his case kept bumping against the crowd.  Mismanaging his case was a good excuse to stop and stare every now and then.  As they passed down the long corridor that led to other ships docked, Jim caught sight of the back of a tall, slender man, standing with his hips leaning against the entrance of a docking port located a few spaces from their own, his head covered by a knitted cap.  He was talking with a shorter, stockier, eager looking man with curly brown hair.  

     The stocky man wasn’t enough to hold Jim’s attention, but there was something about the firm backside in dark denim that really needed to be appreciated by someone.  Jim slowed his pace, as he voted himself ‘Official Backside Appreciator.’ He could just barely hear the soft, deep voice of the taller man, and with a breath held, waited for him to turn from the stocky man so he could see his face.  

     “Jim!” Bones barked sharply startling Jim from his perusal of the strange, firm backside.

     “What?” he mouthed as he turned to face Bones, who was waving at him to hurry up.  Jim shook his head and trotted to catch up.  When he reached Bones, he argued with Jim about how important it was to stay together, so that Jim didn’t get his pretty self lost in the giant old Starbase full of communicable diseases, or sucked out from walls that were built by the lowest bidder using the cheapest material, or kidnapped and sold into slavery.

     “Seriously Bones, who would want to buy your old chicken legs?” Jim asked, staring down at his friend’s fast moving legs.

     “It’s not my legs I’m worried about, it’s yours.”  Bones said, turning back around and glaring at everything and anyone to the sound of Jim’s laughter behind him.  

     “I wouldn’t mind being sucked out from...”

     “You finish that sentence and I’m finishing you.” Bones growled.

     “Ah, Bones, lord love ya.  Thanks, but no thanks.”

     “You dipshit.  Shut up and keep moving.”  Bones said with a look of disgust, ignoring Jim’s hooting behind him as he picked up his pace. 

     Spock noticed the blond cadet, once he stepped into the main corridor, above all others.  It was possible that this was because the cadet had let out a loud laugh within the confining metal walls of the base, drawing everyone’s attention.  The cadet was strangely easy to spot as he made his way through the Starbase, regardless of the other red clad cadets.  He was chattering in a loud voice, waving a hand in the air as he spoke, dragging his case behind him.  A most unusual phenomenon was occurring with the cadet’s passage. Every time his case hit someone, and just before they got angry and started to open their mouths to speak, something must have passed across the cadet’s face that caused them to cease being angry and they lingered to look at the cadet’s retreating back.  Most unusual.

     The cadet’s companion walked swiftly ahead of him, talking over his shoulder, cutting a broad swath through the crowd.  Spock’s eyes followed the bright head of hair as it bobbed and weaved in the wake of his friend.  He stepped to the side and tried to catch a glimpse of the cadet’s face, to see what the unusual phenomenon was.  When the cadet would turn, the other travelers would bunch together and Spock growled at missing the cadet's face once more.  One of the Starbase officers walking past him jumped at the sound.  She looked up at him and he gave a slight nod of his head.  It would not do to cause a scene, Spock could no longer continue to excuse his actions of following the cadet any further.  

     Spock’s communicator chirped at that moment and he checked the I.D., it was Mr. Kyle.  Spock tapped the comm thoughtfully, before he answered.  He listened to the engineer explain about the small glitch with the ship’s engines.  Spock’s lips tightened minutely as he concentrated on what the engineer was saying, and then drew his own conclusion about what would be required, before the end of the conversation.  They wouldn't be able to leave that evening due to the amount of time it would take for Mr. Kyle to begin repairs.

     “Fortunately, this Starbase has the replacement parts we need if I can’t get it straightened out using our bits and ends, but it’s going to put us off our schedule.  Thought you should know.” Mr. Kyle said.  Not having a choice, Spock gave the approval to make the necessary repairs and ended the communication with Mr. Kyle so he could alert his employers about the delay.  

 

 

 

     After reporting for duty aboard the USS _Thresher,_ Jim barely survived a grumpy Bones within the thirty minutes it took them to sonic the space dust off, and change into civvies for some Starbase nightlife.  Jim was about done with Bones’s mood, and was ready to meet other people that weren't his roommate and soon to be not best friend in the whole wide world.

     Jim gave out a cry of pain, “OW,” before he ducked out of the way of the hypospray that Bones just jabbed into his neck. He rubbed his neck and asked, “What the hell was that for?  Dammit, that stings!”

     “I told you, we just passed through a Starbase that's a teeming petri dish, onto a second starship with unknown germs and you have the weakest immune system I have ever seen in any human being ever. I gave you a general booster.”

     “For what?” Jim asked, seriously perplexed.

     “Everything.” Bones said, jabbing the empty hypospray into Jim’s shoulder.  He turned around to replace it with the rest of his medical equipment.  “You’ll thank me later.”

     “All right, Mom, can we go now? I'm all dressed and ready to go. Are you seriously wearing that?” Jim asked as he looked at Bones choice of leisure wear. “What century did that come from?”

     “Shaddup, at least I don't look like a prep school reject.” Bones threw over his shoulder as he tucked his medkit back into his travel case.

     Jim looked down at his outfit for the evening. One lucky Starfleet Academy t-shirt that was soft as hell.  One favorite grey cardigan that was also soft as hell, but practical, it kept him warm.  After wearing that stiff uniform, he was ready to be comfortable.  Jeans, because one can't go around without pants in the general public, Starfleet regulations or something. Also, shoes, because there was also some sort of regulation regarding going barefoot outside of his room. He put his hands on his hips and stared at Bones, “Yeah, well at least I look like I belong in this decade.”

     “Track suits are coming back.” Bones said, slapping Jim on the shoulder as he passed him to get to the door.

     “You don’t even run...or exercise for that matter.  Which is disturbing, since you’re always barking about my health and just don't ever say that about track suits again, because they’re not.” grumbled Jim, “Let's just go and hope I don't have an allergic reaction to something.” This statement caused Bones's eyes to flare open and he made a mad dash back, for his medkit and tricorder.

     “Put that down, put that down now!  Oh for the love of all that is holy, you're not going to need that!” Jim complained, rolling his eyes.  He walked briskly over to Bones and began to try and peel the equipment out of his hands, “Bones, let it go, drop it, drop it, I said!”

     “No, I’m not a dog.  Let go, you’ll break it!  And how much you wanna bet that the first thing you put in your mouth is gonna cause your throat to swell shut!” Bones exclaimed, tugging gently at his equipment.

     Jim stopped his tug of war momentarily to wink at Bones, “We can only hope.”

     Bones hit him up the backside of his head with one hand and said, “Get your mouth and your mind out of the gutter, or I'm not taking you anywhere tonight. You can stay in here by yourself, or go somewhere else by yourself.”

     “Don't take that stuff with you and I promise to keep my dirty mind, and throat all to myself tonight.” Jim looked pleadingly up at Bones.  He batted his eyes.

     “Does that actually work on anyone?  Besides me?  Stop that dammit, fine, I'll leave it here.  But I swear to God if you get sick tonight, you will never hear the end of 'I told you so' for the rest of your natural life.”

     “Alright, alright.  Come on old man, let's go see what this base has to offer!” Jim grabbed Bones by the elbow and hustled him out, before he could think about changing his mind.

      Jim pulled Bones along swiftly behind him, until they got into the crowded Eateries and Entertainment section of the Starbase, where he slowed down to look all around him.  While all Starbases had that industrial grade mix of metal and plasticine interior plating that seemed to come with pre-added grunge right off of the assembly line, the E-E level always tried to disguise itself.  There were colorful lights, soft music, advertisements, food and civilian clothing from all types of worlds.  Bones stopped for a few seconds while Jim turned a full circle, looking his fill, before he rolled his eyes and continued at a fast pace through the crowd, leaving Jim to gawk and stare.

     “Here we go,” said Bones, waving his arm towards the dark opening of the one bar he deemed safe for Jim.  “Looks perfect.”

     Jim turned in the direction that Bones was pointing at and curled his lip up in distaste.  “It looks like your standard Terran bar. Don't you want to go somewhere a bit more exotic? I mean there are other choices around here.” Jim looked longingly at the Rigellian themed bar with it’s exotic flowers and holo-projections of white sandy beaches.

     Bones snorted, “And risk you having an allergic reaction to some foreign alien restaurant that doesn’t list your particular allergens? You didn't let me bring my med kit or my tricorder, so no, you don't get to go someplace nice and exotic. You get to stay here with me, in a Terran type bar, where it's boring and safe.”  He smiled at Jim and held his hand out and bowed, like the horrible old southern gentleman that he was.  “After you, princess.”

     Jim let out a petulant groan and walked over to kick Bones in the foot.

     “Temper tantrums will get you nowhere.” Bones said, patting him on the head, “There’s a good boy.”  Jim attempted one more kick before Bones gave him a little push away.

     Jim continued to grumble as Bones made a beeline for the bar.  Screw this, Jim thought, if I'm going to be limited to 'safe' zones, I won't be doing it fast! So he dragged his feet, and took his time in approaching the actual bar, where Bones was waving to him like a maniac stage-mom. It would have been less embarrassing if he had been there with his parents.  

     “Whoops, 'scuse me,” he muttered as he bumped up against a hard body wearing a soft leather jacket. Before he got a chance to smile his apology, he gave a shudder and quickly jerked his hand up and away from where he had made contact with something cold and shocking, that gave him a quick, warm zing up to his elbow.  He glanced from his hand, and up, into a pair of cold, hard brown eyes that with one raised eyebrow under the brim of a knit cap, swiftly catalogued and then summarily dismissed him. The cold stranger continued on in whatever direction he had been heading.

     The two sensations he had experienced from that brief contact were so incongruous from each other, that he had a hard time reconciling with what he felt with whom he had touched.  Jim shivered from the residual contact with the cold man. He decided to forego the leisurely stroll through the crowded bar and with a frown stuck to his face, headed directly for his madly waving, stage-mom friend.  Before reaching the relatively warm safety of Bones, Jim glanced back one more time out of curiosity and did a double take.  He recognized that backside!

     That was the same firm assed guy that had been standing in one of the Starbase docks when they had disembarked from the Hamilton.  Jim's interest was caught, he brought his hand up and looked at it briefly before deciding to go back into the fray of bodies to try and find the stranger again, until he was snagged by the back of his cardigan.  He sighed in frustration and turned to Bones who was attempting to make his way back to the barstools he had abandoned, pulling Jim along so he could put in their long awaited drink order.  Jim wiped his hands along the seat of his jeans, wiping the residual contact away, focusing instead, on the Ferengi bartender in front of him.

      Bones felt the strange crawling sensation at the back of his head, he knew when he was being watched.  For the umpteenth time since they sat down at their little space at the bar, he glanced up into the mirror behind the shelves that held all of the exotic liquor the bar owned.  It reflected not only the backside of the Ferengi bartender in all his glory, but a large section of the poorly lit bar behind them.  Sighing, Bones shifted in his seat again.  In a ruse to look at the stranger, he turned his head to rest his chin on his own shoulder and risked a small glance to the side.  He flicked his glance back at the young man sitting next to him.  Jim was twisting his body back and forth on the stool.  Bones grumbled out "There's a guy staring at us, or more specifically, staring at you."

     "That’s like the five hundredth time you’ve turned back to stare at him.  If I noticed, he’d notice.  I think it could be said that you’re staring again and he’s reacting to your pervy stalker self.” Jim let out a soft huff of laugh and continued to swivel on his barstool.  “I’m content to let you stare at whoever _him_ is and let _him_ stare back at you, you track suit wearing creep.”

     "Hahaha, it’d be one thing if he was staring at me, but he’s not staring at me.  I swear he’s been staring at you.” Bones nudged Jim with his glass. “Stop twisting on that stool, you’re gonna fall over and knock yourself out!”

     “Am not.” Jim rocked himself back and forth swiftly and stuck his tongue out at Bones.

     “Will so.” came Bones’s reply.  “I’m serious, it's not right."

     "I’m allowed to twist my barstool, Mother.” Jim said, teasing Bones as much as he could get away with.

     “I don’t mean that, dolt.  I mean the staring.”  Bones said, clarifying his earlier statement.

     “Everybody has the right to stare." Jim said, dully.  He took another sip from his beer.  Bones had let him use his fake I.D., but only because Jim had threatened to throw a fit, right then and there about how his boyfriend was stalking him like the creep he was and if that didn’t work on Bones, then he was going to go eat at the Rigellian restaurant and purposely try to find something to stick down his throat, so it would swell up and he didn’t care if Bones witnessed it or not.  Bones had conceded to letting him drink fake legally tonight.

     "I don't like it.  It's not natural."

     "This is a fine example of the pot calling the kettle black, and besides, I'm used to it.  George Kirk's son and Starfleet's golden whore.” Jim finished in a high falsetto voice using air quotes.

     “Well,” said Bones with a sad look, before clapping the young man on the shoulder.  “I wouldn’t say you’re a whore...at least, not to your face.”

     “Aw, that’s so sweet of you, thanks for making me feel better, I hate you.” Jim squeezed his friend’s hand before reaching up to pat him playfully in the face. “Maybe he wants an autograph, or a photograph.  Think he'll go away if I smile at him?" Jim flashed a toothy grin and crossed his eyes.

     Bones snorted and took another sip of his drink.  "No.  Try giving him the finger while you're at it.  That might do it though."

     "Tempting.” Jim said, “Very tempting.”

     “Anyways pretty sure mercenaries of weirdo alien origin don't want your autograph, they want your skin, or so I hear."  Bones said and looked over his shoulder one more time, frowning in suspicion.

     "MERCENARIES OF weirdo alien origin!?  Wow that's...an interesting idea there.  Maybe you shouldn't have that last drink after all?" Jim reached out to swipe the glass out of Bones’s hand.  Before Jim got far, Bones had pulled the glass full of amber liquid out of his reach and knocked it back in one gulp.

     "Shaddup.” said Bones.  He motioned to the Ferengi bartender for a refill as he watched Jim settle back on his stool.  “If you don't believe me, use your own God damned eyes that God gave you."

     "Fine.  Where's your weirdo alien mercenary?  Weirdo alien mercenary.  Jesus." Jim turned his head to the right.  He gave a quick look before turning back to gaze questioningly at his friend and waved his hand in the air. “Which way?”

     "Uh huh.  Behind you 2 o'clock.  Try not to look like you’re looking, by the way.”

     “Pfft, I can be subtle.”  With that he swung himself full around and leaned backwards on the bar, draping himself along it and laughing in Bones’s face, before turning to give a slow survey of the room.  His eyes finally coming to rest on one individual, one cold stranger, who was indeed, staring directly at him.  Jim’s fingers gave an involuntary twitch as if they remembered.  He blinked once and gave a small smile.  None was returned to him.  Jim began to frown.

     When Jim didn’t turn back to him in what he perceived to be a timely manner, Bones glanced over and saw the little crease between Jim’s eyebrows and small frown on his face.  He waited for him to blink and it was slow in coming.  He took a sip of his second drink of the night and drawled out, "Well let's not be obvious.  I don't want to die in space, but that doesn't mean I want to be murdered in my nice warm bed.  Didn’t anyone tell you it's not polite to stare?"

     Jim, still frowning, ignored Bones and continued to slouch in his stool.  He decided that nice ass or not, if someone was going to stare at him, he was going to stare right back.  He returned his attention to the lean figure and what was visible to him behind the table he was sitting at.  Dark eyes gleamed out from a sharp face.  With the hat off, Jim could see that his hair was shorn close to the sides of his head, longer and messy at the top, as if he had just woken up and hadn’t bothered to do anything with it.  Something was nagging at the back of Jim’s mind, he knew this guy, but not from just the chance glimpse outside of the docking ports, he snapped his fingers in thought.

     Jim’s eyes trailed over to see the exposed tip of a pointed ear;  Bones was right, the guy was an ‘alien’, down the smooth shadowy skin of his face, to his neck, where he could see the barely visible black curls of a tattoo peeking out from under his plain black v-neck shirt and trailing up that slender column.  Below the table, and here, Jim gave a small appreciative smile, a pair of long legs were stretched out, a pair of black boots crossed at the ankles.  His hands were still on the table, they were surrounded by several empty glasses, one half full in front of him.

     After looking under the table, Jim’s eyes traveled back up to his face, and became held in the dark gaze as a small look of amusement flickered across in the form of a raised eyebrow and small quirk of the lips, before they were hidden by the raising of his glass.  Nothing else was revealed on his face.  The man took a slow sip, lowered his glass and swallowed.  Jim watched the bob of his Adam's apple, his own throat tightened in response, perhaps he didn’t have to go to the Rigellian bar tonight.  Jim gave a startled jump as he finally figured out why the cold stranger looked familiar.  The only image of his quarry that Captain Pike had shown him was from an old holo of a young Vulcan male, with a very severe haircut and angry eyebrows, swathed in traditional Vulcan robes.  While this guy was older and definitely not as neat around the edges as the guy in the photo, Jim could swear it was the same guy.  Jim snickered to himself, wait till Pike saw this guy now, because that was definitely not a regulation Starfleet haircut and he was pretty sure that it wasn’t a regulation Vulcan bowl cut either.

     "Jim."  Bones watched in exasperation as his young friend continued to engage in a staring match with a total stranger.  

     "..."

     "Hello."  Bones called out again, louder this time.

     "..."

     "Earth to Jimbo!" Bones said, waving his arm in front of Jim’s face.

     "Shut up. Wow."  Jim said out of the corner of his mouth before giving out a low whistle.

     "What?"

     "..."

     "Kid.  WHAT."  Bones started to turn further around so that he could get a good look at the strange guy Jim seemed to be fascinated with.  He let out a squawk as his face was swiftly and strongly grabbed by Jim and pushed back towards the mirror.

     "Don't look," Jim murmured, “Just don’t look.”

     "I already have!  Are we gonna die tonight?" Bones asked worriedly, his face still imprisoned in Jim’s hand, he was frozen in place.

     "Don't be silly old man." Jim gave his friend’s face a quick shake.

     At that, Bones yanked Jim’s hand down and swatted his shoulder hard, "Old man!  I'll remember that the next time you need to be resuscitated, or I'm dead, from being attacked by highly offended tatted up weirdo aliens!”

     “He's not a weirdo alien...I'm not going to even finish that description.  But yeah, you’re right, he’s not from around here.”  Jim said, he picked up his glass again and took a few sips, wetting his dry throat.

     “What do you mean he's not just whatever I said he was?  I'm not repeating it either.  Look at him!”  Bones said pointing to the mirror behind the bar as if it should have made sense to Jim that this guy wasn’t normal and the mirror would reveal the guy’s true nature.

     “You got an identification program on you or are you just happy to see me? And you told me not to stare.”

     “Don't stare, just look. Look at him, look at those tattoos, the ears and the little green man tinge to his skin.  We're dead and I'm going to drink this drink since it's my last." Bones said, raising his own glass to knock it back.  He signaled to the bartender one more time.

     "Oh my god, how is looking not staring.  Tatts don’t mean you're gonna kill someone or that you're an alien.  If they did, then like a large percentage of Earth's population, along with several other federation species and the whole Romulan Star Empire would mean that...."

     "Romulan!" Bones said excitedly.

    "Ssshhh." Jim hushed his friend with his hand and glanced around.

     "Romulans aren't allowed in this area of space.  You know that.  God dammit, that's what those tattoos reminded me of!  We gotta report that to someone!" He began fumbling with his pockets, looking for the communicator he had jammed in there before they left.

     “He's not Romulan,” Jim stopped his friend’s hand before he could make a huge mistake, “and no one is going to believe you based on how many drinks you've just had and how many I’ve had.”  Jim said quietly, glancing pointedly at his wallet on the bar.  Bones made a face and withdrew his hand from his pocket.   Jim continued, “While I would love to sit here and watch you go through one of your panic attacks, I may have inadvertently started on Pike's errand prematurely, so we should leave sooner, rather than later, and THAT  is actually one of the better ideas I've had all night."

     "I can hold my liquor you brat.  I am neither senile nor too inebriated to not be able to identify a Romulan."  

     "You didn’t say Romulan at first, you just said alien, like generic alien, no I mean WEIRDO alien, which to be honest is quite xenophobic of you old man.”

     "Look brat, look at his neck he's got tattoos, pointed ears and those god damned eyebrows that aren't just from regular anger!" Bones said, pointing to the mirror again.

     "I think his eyebrows are getting angrier." whispered Jim, leaning forward.

     "How can you tell?" asked Bones, lowering his voice out of reflex.

     "You're talking pretty loudly,” said Jim raising his voice in a comical manner before lowering it, “and from what I remember, Vulcans have superior hearing."

     "Vulcan!" exclaimed Bones in a harsh whisper, “Are you sure?”  They continued to talk in whispers, leaning closer to each other, so their voices wouldn’t carry so far.

     "Yep."  Jim nodded absently.

     "Vulcan's do NOT have tattoos." Bones sawed the air with his finger and jabbed it into Jim’s neck.

     "Ow, stop it.” Jim batted Bones away again, “well, this one does."

     “And what makes you think this is a Vulcan!”

     Jim turned serious and said “He’s not a this, he’s a he.  Remember that errand I was telling you about that Pike sent me on?”

     “Yeah.  Actually no, since you didn't say anything about it, you were just like...” Bones raised his voice in pitch and batted his eyes, “come with me Bones, so that I don't die doing this thing that Pike wants me to do.” He lowered his voice to normal levels “and I told you not to do the thing, but you wouldn't listen.  You're lucky I didn't hypo your ass until you told me what we're doing.  What are we doing?”

     “Are you done bitching?  God, you sound like my mother.”  Jim said, leaning back from the bar and straightening his arms.

     “I won't hesitate to spank you like that woman shouldha done when you were knee high and all the way into your sorry adult life.”

     “Bones.” Jim said calmly.

     “What errand!?  Jesus focus kid!”

     “Not what, who is my errand.” whispered Jim, leaning into Bones, so he wouldn't be overheard.

     “Who's your errand?” whispered Bones, still confused.

     “Boooooooones.”  Jim points with his thumb back at Bones's new friend.  He opened his comm and texted Bones the message, ‘ _I’m supposed to recruit him_.’  Bones glared at him as Jim set his comm back down and waited for his friend’s reaction.  When Bones’s comm chimed, he growled at Jim before opening the text.

      “Are you out of your god damned mind!” Bones whispered harshly in surprise.

     They sat quietly for a few minutes.  Bones still a bit in shock after Jim’s revelation.  Even though Jim had suggested they leave soon, he didn’t seem to be in a hurry.  Bones shifted his weight on his stool and watched as Jim continued to sneak peeks back at the Vulcan he was supposed to be stalking or setting up or whatever Pike called this errand.  “Well?” he asked, nudging Jim in the arm, hard, with his elbow.

     Jim chewed on his thumbnail, for a moment, his eyes flicked from his drink, back up to Bones.

     “WELL?”  Bones repeated himself, “Shouldn’t you put this time to good use?”

     “I don't know.” Jim whispered in a small voice.

     “What do you mean you don't know?  You're here for - “

     “Bones!” hissed Jim “Sssh.”

     “What do you mean, you don't know!” whispered Bones harshly.

     “Hey, may I remind you that it was Pike who set up this crazy cover story,” Jim said, waving his hands frantically in the air, “I didn't, you know me, I don't plan, like ever and Pike's plan didn't cover what I should do if I met him outside of the meeting point!  And yet again, this is why I hate plans.”  With that, Jim flung himself down onto folded arms and for all accounts looked like he was working himself up into a good old-fashioned pout and sulk.

     “Are you serious!?  You're upset because NOW you just realize that you’re going into a game you don't have all the pieces for!?” Bones asked, confused at Jim’s reaction.

     “Yes and now that I've made visual pre-contact, now what?” Jim mumbled into his arms.

     “Pre-contact?  How old are you anyways.  Well, I guess you could play hard to get, that's what all the good girls do back home.  Works like a charm.”  Bones said.  He clinked his third glass against Jim’s beer and winked.

     “It's not like that!  I mean sure, yeah, he is pretty hot, if you’re into tall, dark and seriously intense.” Jim said, tilting his head up and smiling at his friend.

     “I'm gonna punch you in the face if you ever say anything like that in my presence again.”

     “But I'm not here to seduce him with me.  I'm supposed to seduce him with like Starfleet, or something.” Jim said, staring at his beer as if the bubbles would form the answer in the foam.

     Bones let out a bark of laughter.  “I think you'd be better off trying to seduce him with your bony ass.”

     Jim punched him in the shoulder, again.  “Shut up.  Aside from learning Vulcan 101 at the Academy, it's not like there's a manual that explains how to talk to a Vulcan you know more about, than they know about you...in a bar.  This sounds like the start of a very bad joke.  I mean, do Vulcans even go to bars?”

     “Seems like this one does.” Bones said, hooking his thumb back at their new friend.

     “Yeah, but this one is….special.”  Jim’s voice trailed off as he looked back at his target.

     “Angels of mercy, is that Starfleet in your eyes or love dust?” Bones asked, nearly gagging.  He gave a whole body shudder.

     “Look, I've never done something like this before.  What am I supposed to do?” Jim waved his hands frantically in front of him, “Saunter over and offer to buy him a drink and say what?  Hey, enlist in Starfleet because it’s cool and you get to go into space!?  I mean come on, he’s already in space and he’s Vulcan, like he’s from another planet that’s part of the founding members of the Federation and oh God I could really use another drink right now.”  Jim’s arms stilled and his eyes grew wide as the reality of his task finally sunk in.

     “Dear God, dawn breaks.  You haven’t even finished the one drink you have, light weight.  Why did you even think it was a good idea to use your fake I.D.?”

     Jim began talking as if he hadn’t heard his friend.  “He's drinking Romulan ale and he's got like several empty glasses in front of him.  What good will it do for me to buy him another drink?  Is he even sober right now?  If he’s not sober, I can’t take advantage of him!  You were right, this is a bad idea.  This is a very, very bad idea.”  Jim rested his forehead on the hard surface of the bar.

     Bones let out a low whistle.  “Never thought I’d live to hear that.  Okay well, with a Vulcan, it looks like you've got your work cut out for you.  I don't suggest drinking games.”

     “Boooooones, not helping.  Maybe I should have brought one of those Vulcan puzzle boxes that Pike was talking about.  Like excuse me sir, I noticed you had pointy ears, are you a Vulcan?  I have a puzzle box I just can't seem to figure out.” Jim mimed handing something out and gave Bones a horrible rendition of an innocent happy smile.  His face fell when Bones shook his head at him.

     “Disgraceful, how do you even get a girl with those kinds of lines.  Look kid, we kind of happen to be out of my area.  As much as I like you, I don't know how to attract a man's interest, much less keep it.  I have no idea what keeps you around, no matter how hard I try to get rid of you.  And I hate space, which means I shouldn't be in Starfleet, so there's no help there.  Stop looking at me like that, I mean it.  Jim.  Jim no.” Bones said, he started to edge away from the crazy look in Jim’s eyes.

     “Bones please.” Jim begged as he batted his eyes at his sour faced friend.

     “No.  N.  O.  To whatever your cock-a-mamie brain is thinking. Nooo, uh-uh.” Bones turned back to the bar and hunched his shoulders, trying to make himself smaller than he actually was.

     “Flirt with me.” whined Jim, tugging on his elbow.

     “Oh hell no.  No.”  Bones jerked his arm away from Jim. “I was not put on this Earth-”

     “We’re not on Earth, Bones,”

     “I was not put on Earth to help you flirt with Vulcans who don’t know if they’re Romulan or not.” finished Bones.

     “Oh come on you do it all the time!  Help me out.  Be my wingman, make me look good.” Jim said, he continued to tug on Bones’s elbow.

     “That's not the same thing and you know it!” Bones snapped at Jim, yanking his elbow away.  Jim only grinned back, reached his hand out and pinned Bones's fingers to his glass and pulled it towards him to take a sip.  “I hate you.” Bones whispered.  “I'd punch you in your stupid face right now if it wouldn't blow your cover or put me on the admirals black list for messing up the face of Starfleet.  OW.” Bones grimaced at the sharp kick that Jim had delivered to his ankle.  “Brat.”  

     “I'm gonna go to the bathroom” said Jim, hopping off his barstool. “And then we leave.”

     “Thank God, leave me to enjoy my drink in silence.”

     “You love me.”

     “I hate you.  Oh, and kid?” Bones leaned back to smile kindly at Jim who was walking away.

     “Yeah?” said Jim, shooting at Bones with invisible pistols.

     “Just remember, you’re an alien to him as well.  Seems to me, you got more things in common with this kid than you thought you did.  I’m sure you’ll make beautiful alien babies together.” Bones smiled and raised his glass to toast Jim.

     Jim had begun to smile at his friend at the start of his little speech, but he ended with uttering death threats under his breath, before he turned and surveyed the room, looking for the entrance for the bathrooms.  His eyes flitted around until they landed back on his target.   _His_ Vulcan.  He was still smiling until his Vulcan looked directly at him, causing him to stumble on absolutely nothing but his own feet.  He let out a small curse and looked up, his face flushing.

     The Vulcan was still staring at him, head cocked slightly to the side, studying him.  Jim shook his head and looked away, he decided that now was not the time to play ‘Engage the Vulcan.’  Pike’s plan be damned, if his gut said go get that Vulcan now, he would listen to it and figure it out as he went along.  This time though, with that predatory look on the Vulcan’s face, Jim’s gut was saying hell no, walk away, do not engage.  So, he grimaced to himself and shuffled off to the men's room, avoiding any further eye contact and keeping both of his feet planted solidly beneath him.


	3. Man Friend

     Spock looked down at his hand and flicked his long fingers out, studying the side of his index finger and thumb on his right hand. The stranger in the soft cardigan had accidentally brushed against him when he first entered the bar.  Normally, Spock was extremely careful about who he came into contact with, especially with his hands.  He should have been disgusted at the accidental contact and his customary response should have been to growl a warning at the unsuspecting soul.  

     Unfortunately, that response stuck to the roof of his mouth, when he found himself looking down into an upturned, wide-eyed gaze.  After a brief study, he saw that the mistaken contact was made by the elusive blond cadet from earlier.  Following that discovery, he found that he didn't mind the contact so much.  He stationed himself strategically at a small table that allowed an uninterrupted line of sight of the young man, so he could look his fill through the evening as the cadet sat at the bar with his friend, his person reflected in the mirror.

     There was something oddly familiar about the cadet’s blue-eyed, full lipped countenance, but he couldn’t place it immediately.  The cadet and the older man with brown hair and a heavy Terran accent had indeed, been talking about him.  Spock was intrigued by the hushed conversation that they had been having. These humans wouldn't have been the first curious humans to come across him and make bothersome assumptions.

     Spock watched the blond cadet leave his friend, stumble and head to the bathrooms.  The young man must be more inebriated than he expected.  His gaze stayed with the cadet until he disappeared into the hallway that led to the bathrooms.  He turned back to look at the older man the cadet had left at the bar and they glared at each other for a moment before the other man became distracted by the Ferengi barkeeper.  Once the second the man became distracted, Spock was up and gone.  

     He walked to the men's room and paused outside the door for a moment before firming his resolve.  Physically, the mysterious, blond cadet was appealing enough for him to consider trying to entice, and now he knew that the cadet was somewhat interested in him as well, but for what reason?  There were those out there that made their living hunting certain specimens from various species and selling them on the slavers market.  Their strategies varied and Spock had no desire to end up in that market, no matter if a pretty face was attached to a very conniving hunter.  He made up his mind to figure out what was desired of him, pressed his hand against the panel near the door, and it swished open.  

     Stepping inside, his eyes took in the stainless steel, etched with names and various species genitalia.  He raised his eyebrow at one crude attempt at Vulcan genitalia and shook his head, he had no idea where the tentacle lore manifested.  The white tile on the floor was dull and well worn, bits were missing, the grout dull.  One quick glance and he determined that there was only one person in the stalls.  He flipped the door panel on the inside of the door open and entered in a code to prevent the door from being opened from the outside, and to read closed for cleaning.

     Spock turned and leaned back against the wall as casually as he had learned to do since leaving Vulcan.  A toilet flush, a few sharp notes of a whistle, the click of a lock sliding open and the cadet exited the stall.  Human lips paused in their whistling and the young man came to a dead stop, once he noticed Spock lounging against the wall.

      A small electric jolt flew up Jim’s spine as prey recognized predator. The fluorescent light caught all the alien features and threw them into linear shadows.  He was all sharp lines and fuck you glares.  Spock watched him fight back a moment of panic, before regaining control and took the moment to finally get a good long look at the human in better light.  Spock’s eyes swept him from the top of his golden hair, to the strong brows over a pair of clear, intense, blue eyes.  Spock had never had the pleasure of trying to describe such a color and he was not going to waste the time now.

     Spock’s gaze continued downwards, a pair of full lips contracting into a thin line, down to a human throat that was flushing red.  “Fascinating,” thought Spock, “Vasodilation.”  His gaze took in the cadet's attire.  A gray cardigan covered a worn and faded navy blue Starfleet Academy t-shirt.  Dark denim clad muscular legs ended at a pair of brown boots.  Spock's gaze traveled back up, just as slow.  The human was much younger than Spock had guessed, he shifted from foot to foot until Spock’s eyes met his gaze again.

     In one quick motion, the cadet relaxed, flashed a small friendly smile, his eyes going heavy lidded and sleepy for a moment, before he seemed to think better of that idea and recalled himself.  His soft look hardened back into a sharp, suspicious gaze.  A shift of his shoulders and the human turned to the sinks and picked up his whistling tune again, and proceeded to ignore the Vulcan in the room.  Spock wondered if it was the smile or the soft look that had stopped the other people in the corridors of the Starbase from getting angry at him when he had bumped into them.  

      Spock stayed unmoving and silent, as blue eyes continued to flick up into the mirror as the cadet finished his ablutions.  The young man kept his eyes downcast after drying his hands and attempted to leave the restroom, but Spock was faster than humans.  He stepped up, quickly crowding the human’s personal space, preventing him from getting to the door.  Spock heard him gasp once in surprise and as he monitored the top of the human’s lowered head, he took in the sight of the rapid rise and fall of his chest at the increase in breathing rate.

     “I don’t want any trouble,” the cadet whispered, slowly taking one step back and holding his hands up.  Spock followed.  Another step back and Spock followed until the cadet was finally pressed back against the wall, head still lowered and arms raised in a position of surrender.  They stayed there in that moment for a few heartbeats, Vulcan versus Human, before the cadet let out an exasperated sigh and finally looked up.  Spock took in the look of irritation flaring behind the blue eyes, the beginnings of a small solar flare illuminating them.  They alternated between amusement and anger.

     “Look Mister, I said I don’t want any trouble.”  Jim watched as the Vulcan watched him, his head tilting into a sharp angle, a bird of prey eying its next meal.  Please don’t eat me, please don’t eat me, please don’t eat me, Jim repeated in his head before switching to Oh my God, Oh my God.  Maybe Bones will come find me, no God dammit, I am NOT a princess.  Jim screwed his face up at that idea and drew in a sharp breath as the Vulcan began to speak.

     “No one will disturb us, the door is locked from the inside.”

     Jim’s eyes closed for a brief moment of relief before they flashed back up.  “Then get out of my way,” he bit out and tried to edge out from the Vulcan, sideways, before coming to an abrupt stop as a leather clad arm shot out and barred his escape.  Jim pulled up short, the alarms in his head going off as he repeated Pike’s warning, do not touch the Vulcan, do not touch the Vulcan, do not touch, do not touch.  I hate plans! Jim’s mind screamed at him.  Jim looked at the Vulcan out of the corner of his eye and tried to shove himself out the other side, until a second arm came out and caged him.  His mind sent a louder alarm bell, red alert, red alert, shields up, shields up, shields up!

     Jim stood his ground, well, as much of his ground he could stand, that wasn’t being eaten up by a Vulcan.  He placed his hands on his hips and glared into the dark eyes boring into him, “Look buddy, you need to get out of my way, now.”

     “Or what?” asked the Vulcan, leaning in to whisper, “As a son of Romulus, I am stronger and faster than a human, your threats mean little to me.  I could do as I please.”

     “You’re not Romulan.” Jim grinned hoping to give the Vulcan as hard a time as he was currently giving him.  Vulcan’s don’t lie, his ass.  Where did people get their information?

     Spock raised one eyebrow and watched as the human tracked it’s progress.  Out of curiosity, he raised his other eyebrow and the human tracked that one as well.  Spock lowered both eyebrows and the human began to smile, with some form of delight, if Spock could guess at the emotion flitting across the human's face.  Spock found it odd and unexpected, considering it was just his eyebrows.  “I can assure you, that I am Romulan.”

     “Yes and No to that.” Jim said, leaning casually back against the wall.  He wrapped his arms around his chest.

     Spock blinked, he was taken a bit aback.  “Yes and No?” he repeated as a question.

     “Pretty sure you have common ancestry with Romulans, but no, you're not a Romulan.”  Jim couldn’t help himself, he reached a hand out to gently wave the tips of his fingers over the air above the delicate curl of the tattoo peeking out from under the v-neck of the stranger’s shirt, echoing the pattern.  “See this? This is Vulcan calligraphy.  It’s gorgeous, by the way.”  The cadet smiled smugly up at the fake Romulan.

     “Romulans and Vulcans share a common ancestry, it is easy for a human to confuse the two races in language and in appearance.” Spock said matter of factly.  

     “I'm pretty sure there aren't a whole hell of a lot of Romulans walking around with Vulcan calligraphy on their person.  If you’re going to pretend to be of Romulan ancestry, you should either hide that better, or use Romulan lettering, or just tell people you’re a Vulcan.” Jim waggled his finger while giving Spock a half smile. “What’s wrong with being a Vulcan?”

     Spock continued to regard the cadet, following his explanation of Spock’s origins. He had been caught by surprise, which he rarely was anymore, and therefore, out of shock, he gave the cadet his name. “I am Spock.”

     “Oh,” Jim said, smiling nervously.  Play cool man, play it cool, play ignorant, plead the fifth.  Plead for something exciting, said a small portion of his brain.  Shut up brain.  Your honor, I plead ignorance, I didn’t know, how could I have known.  Whoops he’s staring, you’ve been quiet for too long what did he say?  He shoved his hands in his pockets and waded into the pregnant silence, “How do you do?” The sound of invisible crickets followed his question as Spock silently waited, for what, he didn’t know.

     “How do I do _what_ , exactly?” Spock asked solemnly, “You did not finish your question.”  Jim couldn't help but grin at the seriousness in his tone.

     “No, no, it’s just an expression, it means, uh how are you.” said the cadet waving his hands around in the air and shaking his head no, like all humans did when Spock took something too literal.  

     Spock sighed and decided to move on.  “Do you need to return to your...boyfriend?”

     “Do what? Uh, oh, that guy, Bones!  Well, his name’s not really Bones, but anyways, he’s not my boyfriend. He's a boy...man actually, I guess, since he's older, but he is my friend, so I guess in a way he is my boy...er man friend.” Jim waved his hands around in another negative fashion in front of him, “but not my manfriend. You know, there's a space in between the two words. Man space friend. Which I'm fine with, since it's just Bones.” He turned to Spock and bit down on his bottom lip, hard, trying to stem the words that were running free out of his mouth.

     Spock looked on steadily, any amusement he felt at the cadet’s long and strange explanation was quietly dealt with and folded back within himself as he observed a pinkish blush wash across the cadet’s face, settling at his cheeks and neck.  The young human, who had yet to give him his name, stood rubbing the back of his head with one hand and returned the other one nervously to his hip, tapping it with his fingers.  Jim looked up in time to see one of Spock's eyebrows rise and he let out a quick bark of laughter, the sound bounced off the walls of the empty men's room.

     “Now that we have established your relationship parameters with the human at the bar, perhaps you would care to tell me your name.”

     “Um. Wow, huh, are we at that stage in our relationship?” Jim laughed nervously.  He had no idea how much information he should share at this point and was trying to play dodge the Vulcan’s twenty questions.

     “I assure you, cadet were we at 'that' stage in our relationship, it would be _my_ name on your lips and not your own.”

     Jim froze and blinked owlishly at the Vulcan, his unsuspecting target, who was HITTING on him and his brain refused to reboot from wherever it decided to dump its memory and leave him with a blank screen.  His mouth fell open and he continued to stare.  Spock concluded by the cadet's response, that his last statement had taken him by surprise.  Unable to leash his curiosity any longer, he reached out with one hand to touch the tip of the cadet's chin in order to help close his mouth and to see if he could feel where the cadet's surprise came from.

     He had just lightly touched the as yet unnamed cadet and was again, taken by surprise as the young man shoved himself back against the tiled wall, away from Spock's reach, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I um...I gotta go,”  Jim pointed both of his thumbs towards the doors of the men's room and attempted an escape maneuver that would shoot him out beneath Spock’s arms, but Spock, with his quick reflexes, followed his movements until Jim was crouched down against the wall and Spock was on one knee, arms still braced on either side of Jim.

     They remained in that silly position, Jim blinking in quiet surprise at the kneeling Vulcan.  He could have sworn that this position would be beneath any self respecting Vulcan’s dignity, but apparently he was playing with an unknown.  Jim gave him his best hundred watt grin and Spock did those odd, angular motions with his head, as if he were considering something.  Jim decided to exercise his curiosity and slowly rose to stand back up.  The Vulcan followed him.  Jim let out another laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, until Spock stepped forward, bent his elbows and got close and personal with Jim’s space.  “Hey now,” Jim whispered.

     Jim considered all the escape options available to him, which were practically none, but there had to be a way out of this.  He briefly eyed Spock’s midsection, wondering how much force he would have to apply to get him to back off.  As Jim tensed for another move, Spock tensed along with him and before Jim could make a full escape, they were disturbed by the sound of a hand slamming hard, repeatedly on the door and Bones calling out his name.  “Jim!”  

     The cadet turned his head in a quick surprise, “Bones!” he whispered, “Whoa now, hey, nice Vulcan, good Vulcan!” Jim said in surprise when he saw Spock turn to snarl at the door.

      “Jim!  The door won’t open.  You in there?  Jim!”  came Bones’s voice, louder this time.  “Is that a dog in there with you?  Who brings a dog to a bar?  Jim, dammit!”  Bones pounded harder and the door shook beneath his fist, but still no answer from Jim.  He knew Jim hadn’t left the bar completely, he had left his wallet on the bar with Bones while he went to the bathroom, Once Bones finished his own drink, he went looking for his drinking buddy, wallet in hand.

     Jim’s eyes flickered up to Spock’s before he took a breath to open his mouth and call out to his friend.   He was thanking his lucky stars that Bones must have finally realized that he had been gone for longer than he needed to be and was now outside pounding on the door.  Spock stopped him from calling out by swooping in and firmly pressing a human kiss against those full, slightly parted lips.  Jim jerked backwards in response and Spock followed the motion, continuing to press him against the wall using only the pressure of his lips.

     Spock’s purpose was for one of two reasons, one, silence the now named cadet and second, curiosity.  He felt a slight bump of noise against his mouth as he felt the cadet’s surface emotions switch from fear and anger, to a strange...curiosity.  As swiftly as the emotions flashed by under Spock’s lips, so did Jim’s actions following Spock’s initiation.  

     Jim was too surprised to think straight, following this surprise kiss from his early found errand, the strange species discussion and tattoo appraisal that he had just barely managed to get through, by the skin of his teeth.   Jim wasn’t quite sure if the pounding he heard now was from Bones banging on the door or if it was his heart, or Spock’s heart.  

     Pressed against the wall, Jim reflexively brought his hands up into fists, at first, thinking to fight him off, but they opened and detoured on their own accord, to grab at the hem of Spock’s jacket.  He was rewarded by suddenly finding himself with an armful of Vulcan pressed against him that was swiftly changing from cold to hotter, by the second.  Unable to help himself, he brushed his hands under Spock’s shirt and raised one up to where his heart should be, under his ribcage, and he could definitely feel it’s fast, heavy, butterfly beat.  His lips began to curve into a smile as the living source of Spock pounded underneath his fingertips.  He gave one small brush with his thumb, before it was all taken away.  He found himself with empty hands and empty lips as the Vulcan stood calmly away from him, by the stall doors.

     There was nothing to indicate anything had happened, save for the soft flush of green staining Spock’s cheeks, ears and lips, but this was swiftly fading.  Spock forced his arms behind his back and clasped his hands tightly into fists as he took in the sight of the disheveled cadet, with his face flushed and lips slightly swollen and definitely pinker.  Spock was fascinated by the coloring against Jim’s eyes, which he in turn noted, were wide and dilated, his breathing heavy as he struggled to regain his composure.  

     Jim continued to lean against the wall, as if Spock was presently pressed against him, holding him there.  Spock wished to return, but it was time for him to go, it would not do to stay longer and delay his next delivery.  While Spock’s fears and suspicions about this human had been mostly satisfied, this cadet was as he appeared, a simple Starfleet Cadet, he meant no harm to Spock.   Lost between two worlds, he had currently yet to decide on entering either one of them.  A dalliance with a curious human, while intriguing, was not on the list of things to do today, maybe not ever.  

     It took a few blinks, before Jim found his voice and missing fine motor coordination.  “Curiouser and curiouser.”  Jim whispered.  He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, he could taste and smell the Romulan ale, and something else.  A warm and spicy undertone that was Spock.  His eyes narrowed in silent focus, slowly considering Spock.  That was a bold thing for a Vulcan to do with a complete stranger, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t all because of his pretty little face.  The Vulcan wanted something, but he wasn’t sure what.  “Beware the Jabberwock, my son.  The jaws that bite, the claws that catch.” Jim whispered to himself once more as he looked down at his hand.  He gave it a slow wipe along the side of his jeans.

     “Jim,” Spock said.  He saw the hesitation and Jim stepped first towards him, eyes searching.   Spock’s eyes flicked to the door, “It was necessary.”  He nodded pointedly to the door and it took Jim a moment to refocus, before realizing that he was now free to leave.

     Spock closed his eyes in a slow blink as he witnessed the realization cross the cadet’s expressive face.  When he reopened them, he saw the back of Jim’s neatly cropped hair as he pushed the panel to open the bathroom door and greeted his friend.  Spock’s last image was that of another pair of angry and suspicious brown eyes narrowed on him.  

 

     Jim made a quick retreat from the doors to the bathrooms and towards the exit of the bar, saying nothing to Bones who was caught amidst the crowd laughing and drinking.  Bones wedged a shoulder through a pair of Andorians, not stopping to apologize.  “God dammit Jim!  You leave for two minutes and you end up locked in a bathroom with something, that thing that was growling like a dog!?”  Bones said, smacking his hand to his face, he held out Jim’s wallet.

     “He’s not a thing Bones, you know that.  And he was only snarling at you because you-”  Jim stopped himself mid sentence, but Bones, being Bones, wouldn’t let it go.

     “Because I what?” Bones asked, elbowing Jim.  “Because I what?  Don’t make me fill that sentence in all by myself, because I will and you won’t like the answers and I’ll keep you awake all night long with dumb answers.”

     “Because you interrupted.” Jim said, looking anywhere but Bones.  He tucked his wallet back in his jeans and walked briskly away from Bones and towards the docks that held the _Thresher_.

     “I interrupted what?  Oh you gotta be kidding me, you were getting it on-”

     Jim turned and sliced the air with his hand in a negative fashion, “No Bones, we weren’t.  You know Vulcans, they don’t do that sort of stuff.”

     “I know Vulcans, but that one is an outlier,” Bones pointed back to the bar, he looked back and saw the same outlier exiting the bar where he had saved Princess Jim from the bathroom.  “What would have happened had I not interrupted?”

     “Probably the same thing.”

     “You did NOT have time to do any of that!”  Bones said in shock and gripped Jim’s arm, pulling him faster through the Starbase corridor’s, “I’m gonna have to give you another shot!  I can’t believe Pike sent you to..to...well, it ain’t decent what he sent you to do.”  Bones looked at Jim with some sort of sympathy.

     “Bones, nothing happened, oh my God, get off my arm!” Jim said, tugging away from his friend, “Jesus, nothing happened, we just...talked, is all and he wasn’t done talking to me when you started knocking.”

     “Did he have to lock the door to talk to you?” Bones asked, whirling to poke Jim in the chest with a hard finger.

     “Ow, no, but that’s all that happened, so no shots you lunatic.”  Jim said glaring up at Bones.  

     “Are you okay though, Jim, seriously?” Bones asked, a little softer and kinder, his doctor’s calm demeanor coming out.

     “I am, you know I am.  I don’t let things like that happen to me, anymore, not since, well.  I’m alright.  And no, Pike’s instructions did NOT include doing that.  That was just a kind of happy byproduct.” Jim said, laying a reassuring hand on Bones’s shoulder.  Bones patted the hand and then his face before striding ahead.  Jim followed quietly, his thoughts a jumble, his heartbeat not quite right yet.  He hoped Bones wouldn’t pull out his tricorder when they got in.  Maybe if he broke it while Bones was in the bathroom?  Yeah, that sounded like a good idea, he felt like breaking something.


	4. Planning

     Admiral Komack’s private secretary came running down the halls of Starfleet HQ, scattering ensigns and yeomen left and right. He ignored the dirty looks and plowed through the entrance to his small office and dropped a load of PADDs, except one, on his desk before stepping up to the door to the Admiral’s inner office and knocking.  The Admiral grunted at him to enter.

     “Pike's received another communication from Vulcan.” The secretary said, huffing out heavy breaths.

     “So?”Admiral Komack asked.  He finished chewing the chunk of sticky pastry he had been gobbling down, before putting the rest of it aside and looking for something to wipe his fat fingers on. When he couldn’t find a napkin, he wiped them on a piece of Starfleet letterhead.  “We receive comms from Vulcan all the time, that old battle axe keeps us on our toes, that bitch.”  Komack rolled his eyes and threw the used paper in the trash bin.

     His secretary closed his door and pulled his PADD out, scrolling through it for reference as he spoke to the Admiral.  “Yes, but Pike’s been receiving a lot of communications direct from Vulcan and from Ambassador Sarek at the Embassy and he called in Kirk’s son for private meetings.  Off the books, I couldn’t find anything on his schedule that said he was meeting with him, he was supposed to be across town having lunch with someone in recruiting each time.  I also looked at Kirk’s schedule and his attendance is perfect so I went to sit in on one of his classes and he was a no show.  I checked the attendance log again that day and he was marked present.”

     The secretary stood there blinking at him, sweat beading his brow, uniform wrinkled, obviously agitated and an obvious mess.  Komack’s lip curled at the site, he could practically smell the man’s panicked body odor.  “One comm from Vulcan has you doing all this cloak and dagger routine?  You’re a mess.  Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t toss you out and find someone competent who doesn’t stink up my office?” Komack asked, incredibly perturbed at his secretary’s wasteful expenditure of time and energy.

     A hurt look flashed across the secretary's face before he gave a small sniff to his uniform, wrinkled his own nose and straightened his shoulders.  “You said to keep my ear out for anything interesting that comes into the upper levels.  So I had my ears out for you and this wasn’t showing up anywhere else, just between Pike and some Vulcans.  I didn’t really think anything of it, until I checked the call logs and saw the high volume of calls from Vulcan, and the embassy direct to Pike and no one else.  Then Pike’s schedule not matching up with Kirk’s, so I followed up on some pieces and found some odd things.”  He broke for a breath and fidgeted while the Admiral stared at him long and hard.

     Komack sat back and drummed his hands on his desk.  With his hand, he motioned quickly for his secretary to hand him the PADD, grabbed it with sticky fingers and began to flip through the screens.  Sure enough, records showed that Pike had received calls from the old battle axe, T’pau, as well as Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan and his wife, Amanda Grayson.  Alien loving traitor, he huffed to himself.  T'pau calling to speak to a member of Starfleet wasn't unheard of, but to have her, the Ambassador and his wife call Pike directly and no one else, it was very odd. He tapped the PADD on the table in thought before picking it back up and looking at Kirk’s attendance record.  He could screw the kid now that he’d seen his attendance was being tampered with.  Komack didn’t know who had altered his attendance record, but his petty little brain was pretty sure it didn’t care, he would just pin it on that little bitch of a boy George Kirk whelped who everyone thought was so precious.

     “You figure out where he’s been?” Komack asked.

     The secretary leaped forward and flipped a few more screens.  “You mean, gone.  I was able to track him down.  He and his roommate disappeared from campus housing.”  At this, Komack’s eyebrows flew up.

     “Disappear.  Two students disappeared, from the dorms?  A disappearance is a cause for concern, not for conspiracy theories.”

     “Yes, well, his roommate is also a med student with Starfleet medical, and his attendance record has been fudged as well.”  The secretary pointed excitedly with his finger to the attendance record of one Leonard H. McCoy.  “I went to the med complex to try and locate him to make an appointment with you for ‘academic review’ and they said he was out sick.  Doctor’s note and everything, stamped with approval by Pike.  I checked their dorm rooms, they’re gone.  Their room is a mess and their travel cases are missing, as well as their transport passes and identifications.”

     “Well, well, well.” said Komack, looking at both attendance records.  “Do you know how long they have been gone and where to?”

     “Two days, that I am aware of.  I tracked them to the San Francisco Earthport.  They beamed up to Spacedock and boarded the _U.S.S. Hamilton_ , bound for Starbase 6 and were then registered on the _U.S.S. Thresher_ , destination planet Vulcan.”

     “Hmm, they didn’t depart from the Starfleet hangar?”

     “No sir, which is odd as well.”

     “Not really, the Starfleet hangars keep logs of all students departing, some safety thing about teens and ready transport.  Pike would know that.  What was the _Hamilton_ carrying?” Komack asked.

     “Nothing special, it was on a regular senior cadet qualification training run to drop off supplies at various Starbases.  The _Thresher_ is carrying a load of scientists on a Science Academy Joint Training mission with Vulcan.”

     “Those are odd groups to send two cadets into who are clearly not seniors and not on the science track.  How long have they been scheduled to those two ships?”

     “Not long sir, I could only find their admission to these trips the day before the _Hamilton_ was to depart.”

     “Hrrrm,” Admiral Komack flipped through the call logs again until he got back to the earliest calls from Amanda Grayson to Captain Pike.  Pike had received and returned calls to Amanda’s private number.  Since then, there had been a few more calls between the Ambassador's private line and Pike. T'pau called Pike a day after Ambassador Sarek's last call. Komack changed the screens to view when the _Hamilton_ would have departed with it's training load of cadets. His secretary was correct, Kirk and McCoy were assigned to the _Hamilton_ and then the _Thresher_ to Vulcan. He turned the screen back over to show his secretary. “Notice anything?” he asked. The secretary studied the screen before Komack got tired of holding it out. “Well?” he demanded. The secretary shook his head.  “Where's Kirk's return trip?” Komack shook the PADD at his secretary in annoyance.

     The secretary grabbed the PADD and did a quick search before frowning up at the Admiral. He shook his head, “I don't see a return trip listed for Kirk, just a return trip on the _Thresher_ for both cadets and then, let's see here. At Starbase 47, McCoy is listed as a cadet in training on the med ship, The _Andromeda_.  That ship will pick him up at Starbase 47 as it makes it's scheduled stop, before it's due to return to Earth Spacedock.  No record of Kirk coming back on any Federation starship from Starbase 47.” The secretary sat down and hit a few more futile attempts at searching before shaking his head. “Nothing.”

     Komack leaned back in his chair and placed his hands on his belly, “Now, well, well well. What would Captain Pike be doing, sending Starfleet's favorite, glorified, lazy ass cadet to Vulcan, along with a med student and for all appearances leaving Kirk stranded at a Starbase?”

     “Maybe Kirk finally pissed off Pike and this is punishment?  Archer did it with what's his face, Scott, when he messed up the transportation and his dog disappeared.”

     “Pike's not that sort of guy. Me on the other hand,” he smiled with all his teeth at his secretary. “I'd lose a guy like that real quick. No, first things, first, we need to find out why Kirk is going to Vulcan. Get into the system and retrieve any transcripts or recordings of Pike's communications.”

     “But-”

     “Do it. Do it now and don't make me make it an order if you want to stay invisible through this. Go find the information and bring it to me.”  Komack flicked his fingers out and returned his attention to his own computer terminal.

     His secretary swallowed and gathered up his PADD before fleeing to his desk. While his secretary went about scurrying through the 'Net, trying to hack into Starfleet security to get to Pike's various mail, Komack pulled up the schedule for Starbase 6 and 47. He squinted his eyes at the scene. For all appearances that his large body and permanent desk jockey status projected, Komack wasn't completely stupid. So what if he had lost the edge to his body, he still had what little that passed for intelligence, although it had been dulled on the monotony of a desk job.

     “There you are, you bastard.” he zoomed in on a portion of the schedule that showed a well known, expensive private shipping company that was going to dock tomorrow and was known to ferry live cargo about the quadrants.   “What say I bet that courier is going to pick up and transport a package that’s wrapped in cadet red,” he mumbled, “Like a freaking present, god dammit.  That’s disgusting, let’s see what we can do about that.”  He picked up his office issued comm unit and dialed the shipping company. Komack cleared his throat before someone finally answered with a too chipper voice.  Komack almost gagged at the friendly tone.

     “Good Morning, Space Post, you stamp it, we ship it Quadrant to Quadrant!  How may we help you?”

     Admiral Komack finished speaking with the representative, but they would not give him any information, “Sorry sir, it’s against policy, we protect our customer’s privacy.”  Seems like they kept tighter security on their customers than his favorite pleasure house.  He swore as he disconnected his comm and drummed his nails on his desk.  “Clint!”  he barked, “Get in here.”

     A few thumps and slides of paper and Clint came flying into his doorway, dark hair sticking up in wisps.  “Aye, sir.”

     “Shut the door.  What did you find out?”  

     Clint palmed the door shut and added the privacy lock.  “Well, ah.  Ahem.  Well, I had a bit of a problem with the Starfleet Security regarding communications-” he stopped as the Admiral began to frown at him.  “but, I was able to eventually get through it.  I didn’t have that hard of a time with the security regarding personal communications, so that was good.”

     The Admiral sat still and stared hard at his secretary.  He was really going to have to do a better job of picking out personnel.  As Clint stuttered to a close, Komack impatiently waved his hand in a circle, indicating that he should continue.

     “Right, so I was waiting to tell you this, because, well...regulations and all.  And I’m not going to be fired for this am I?” Clint asked nervously, his face flushing well.

     “No, but you will be fired if you don’t hurry up and spit it out!”

     “Okay,” Clint cleared his throat, “in the beginning, after I figured out all the oddness, I put a tag on Pike’s communications and managed to jump in when he accessed his communication accounts.  I set it to have messages and other things coming in from the Ambassador and Vulcan to ghost into my mailbox, soooooo-”

     “So, you can actually do something useful.  Fine, wonderful, fantastic.  What else.”

     “Well, I finally checked the messages and uh,”  Clint paused before blurting out, “Pike sent Kirk to Vulcan to pick up advanced warp core schematics.  He doesn’t say who they’re going to or why he’s receiving them.  T’Pau refers to them as reference material on loan, after the agreed upon exchange of one cadet for one schematic.”

     “On loan!?  The Vulcan’s are sending advanced warp core schematics as reference material to Captain Pike on loan, in exchange for one cadet!?” Komack repeated, his voice rising, shocked.

     “Aye, sir.”

     “That’s absurd.  Who agrees to a loan like that!  Furthermore, Pike is just a Captain, he has no use for this material.  This is highly irregular.”  Komack stopped in thought and then started giggling, “An exchange for a cadet.  This cadet.  Oh, oh maybe they’re going to breed that little bastard with a Vulcan.  I’d pay good money to see his face at that exchange.  Haaaaa.  Ha.”

     “Sir,” Clint asked, confused.

     “Nothing, never mind.  What else do you have.”

     “Aye, sir.  The material is on loan for a short period of time, very short.  Pike is to destroy the copy that he has after he’s done with it. He has a week with it.  She specifically said it was for his eyes only, no one else would be able to look at it.  I still don’t understand why they’re exchanging Cadet Kirk, why is he so valuable. ”

     “You have to ask why the Golden Whore of Starfleet is so valuable?”

     Clint’s eyes blinked swiftly and looked down to the floor before meeting the Admiral’s eyes.  “Um, No sir,” he finished in a whisper.  He knew of Kirk’s presumed reputation amongst the Admirals and some of their friends.  Not that he had seen anything, but he did remember the nearly hysterical auction attendees that had bid frantically for that one cadet.  

     “Anyways, they’re not exchanging Kirk, breeding or selling him, I wish they were.  One more stupid nuisance out of the way that doesn’t deserve a spot here.  You gotta earn your way here,” Komack tapped his finger hard on his desk, “He just waltzed in, because of his dad’s position.  Kirk’s just the mule.  You don’t see a record of him coming back on a federation starship because he’s going to be ferried over special.  By special courier.  It’s a personal loan remember.  Hah, it’s being personally carried.”

     Komack stilled his hands and turned to look out the window of his office, he had a window view as well, but much higher than Pikes and larger.  He stood up and went to stare out the window.  It had been years, almost decades since he’d contributed anything worthwhile to the Federation, Starfleet or the Admiralty.  He chewed on his bottom lip and scratched his waist above his belt.  “I want those plans.”

     “I’m sorry sir, what did you say?” Clint asked in a whisper.

     Komack turned around and resumed his seat in his chair.  “No fucking way does Captain Pike get a private personal loan from the Vulcans on advanced warp core anything on my watch.  I want those plans.”

     “Uh, um.  Aye, sir.”  Clint hesitated and looked quickly around the room, his mouth opening and closing.  

     “Problem?

     “Aye, sir.  Um, how do I go about getting the plans?”

     “You?  You’re not going anywhere near those plans.  I’ll arrange it myself.  Dismissed.  Oh,” he said as Clint gave a sharp salute, “Clear out any record that you’ve been messing around with Pike’s communications.  In fact, we may have to damage your hardware.”

     Clint paled, his fingers tightened on his PADD, “Sir?”

     “I find that I am having to repeat myself one too many times today.  Get out and take care of what I asked you to do.”  His secretary saluted and made a mad dash for his desk.  Komack heard clicking as Clint began to gather his PADD’s together.  He could have sworn he heard him whispering soothing noises to them.  Komack shook his head and picked up his comm again to make one more call.  He smiled to himself, one less Kirk in the world and he could retire happy knowing Starfleet was headed in the right direction.

     The ringing stopped as the party on the other end finally picked up, “Marie’s House of Pain and Pleasure, how may we serve you?”

     “Hey Marie, it’s me.  I need to talk to the Hunter.  Have him call me, okay.”

     “We live to serve.”  The line went dead

     Komack leaned back, to turn and view the skyline again, resting his hands on his belly, he tapped them as he hummed a nameless tune.  The Hunter was a member of the Orion Syndicate, he was in charge of bringing in high desirables and selling them to the highest bidder.  He would be pleased with the task of handing over whatever Kirk was carrying, in exchange for Starfleet’s golden boy, along with the bonus capture of whoever was handling the delivery.

     The Hunter would get top dollar for Kirk, Komack would get the schematics and a Kirk free Starfleet.  It was almost too good to be true, he patted his stomach before grabbing his communicator and leaving the office.  Today was a two pastry day.  He waved as he exited to Clint, who was in the process of dismantling several PADDS at his desk, his tongue sticking out.


	5. Contact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \---I'd like to thank Narcissus-garden and Tevlek for allowing me to use their names. bless you both.  
> \---I also attempted some Vulcan with 0 help, so i'm pretty sure it doesn't read like i mean it to. also, i lost my translation. Some of it looks familiar because i could find it and some of it isn't. i think the unfamiliar bits is one of them saying that Jim is earth colored.

     Jim and Bones stood shoulder to shoulder on the lower observation deck of the _Thresher_ and stared out at the large, red, sun baked surface of the planet Vulcan, backlit by her twin planet and stars winking in the distance.  “We’re gonna die,” Bones whispered, “You know, you read about it, but then when you actually see it and it’s all red, and you’re sweating before you even get down there, you know you’re gonna die.  How did Vulcans even crawl out of a primordial ooze, is there any kind of moisture down there to ooze out of?” Bones spread his hands out in wonder and confusion before thrusting them towards the planet outlined in the large, clear viewing port, as if he could actually grasp the planet, which he couldn’t, in more ways than one.

     “Vulcans are made out of primordial sand, not ooze.  I hope you brought your sunscreen,”  Jim whispered back, leaning his shoulder into his friend, his eyes never leaving the planet.  “Can you believe we’re actually here.”

     “I can and I don’t want to, so let’s stop looking at it, I’m getting heat stroke just thinking about setting foot on that planet.”  Bones let out one more huff before turning around to leave, “The sooner we get down there, the sooner we can get off of there.”  He paused at the entrance to the observation deck, his hand ready to palm open the door.  “Jim?”  When he realized that Jim wasn’t ready to leave and was still fascinated by what he was looking at, he settled back against the wall and waited.  

     Jim continued to quietly stare out at the planet, and as Bones watched, he walked further forward, until he was pressed up against the clear surface.  His back in shadow, the dry, red planet bright before him cast a halo around his silhouette, throwing his hair into a rose-gold color.  Bones crooked a grin at the image, Saint Jim, patron saint of lost causes and Vulcans.  As Jim exhaled, his breath fogged up a small patch of space, right under his nose.  He inhaled and the fog vanished slightly, on an exhale more of it grew.  Jim pounded a fist against the transparent aluminum, startling Bones and smiled down at the planet.  “Vulcan,” he said, “We’re going to Vulcan!  Can you believe it Bones, I mean can you!  Who gets to go to Vulcan!”

     “Oh, I can think of a few people, like the scientists on this ship, Vulcans, crazy people like you and me who don’t know any better.  Are we done here?” Bones asked, turning to the door once more.

     “Planet Vulcan, full of Vulcans doing Vulcany things.  How cool is that!”  Jim hopped from one foot to the other, full of excitement to set foot on an ‘alien’ planet, that was so different from Earth.  He would be breathing in different air, it would probably be hot air, but it would still be different, made up of different particulates, oxygen levels, and the gravity would be very, very different.  This was no rag tag colony, this was an inhabited M class desert planet, full of a warp capable, advanced species that were a founding member of the United Federation of Planets.  “Bones, this is a historic moment.  We’re about to make first contact!” Jim said excitedly, pumping his fists in the air.

     “First contact my ass, who do you think you are, Zefram Cochrane?  Come on, if you’re so excited, then stop staring at it and let’s go,” Bones waved his hand towards the door, trying to encourage Jim to leave.  “You would think you didn’t get your fill of Vulcans anyways”

     “Who’s to say I didn’t?” Jim asked, finally bouncing away from the window and running towards Bones, giving him a wink and slap on his backside in passing. “Whoo hoo!”

     “Why you-” Bones exclaimed, practically running after Jim as he ran ahead, laughing all the way to the turbolift.  For the next hour Bones had to put up with Jim rattling off every fact he knew about Vulcan as they waited to load into the shuttles to transport down to the surface, till the shuttle doors re-opened and they were hit with a blast of hot air that caused their throats to reflexively tighten and close in order to protect themselves.

     “Hot damn,” Bones coughed, trying to clear his throat.  

     Jim nodded silently beside him, struggling to bypass his body’s natural defenses.  He tightened his jaw and inhaled quickly through his nose, hot air finally slipping through.  “Oh, it burns,” he gasped, “and not in a good way.”  Together they disembarked from the shuttle, Jim, young and agile, jumped the last foot off the ramp to the ground, like he normally would have done anywhere else and stumbled hard, for his efforts.  He waved his arms around in an approximation of a human windmill, trying to catch his balance.  “Oof, gravity works.  Ow.” Jim said out of the side of his mouth, as he rubbed the sting out of his shins and knees that had absorbed the unexpected impact of human vs. ground, with a higher gravity handicap.

     “Graceless.” Bones said, gliding down the ramp until he came to a stop by Jim, with his hands on his hips.  “At least remember you’re supposed to be representing the best and finest that Starfleet has to offer.  Can’t say it’s much though.”  Bones glanced around at the hard packed surface of the landing strips and shuttle hangars.  Sand blew around in light puffs of circular air patterns, it hit against their pants and shirts, swirling and making tiny raindrop sounds.  Bones ran his fingers through his hair and looked at his hand, sweat was already starting to wet his hair and sand stuck to it.  “Hmph, already it looks like we’ve been playing in a Vulcan sandbox.  Can’t wait to enjoy what this is going to feel like once it gets in all my cracks and crevices.  I mean, it’s like we’re at the ocean, but there’s no water, an endless beach.”

     “Are your eyeballs burning?  My eyeballs are burning.  My eyeballs don’t burn at the beach.”  Jim blinked up at Bones, one eye at a time, his blue eyes watering and drying swiftly in the heat.  “It feels like they’re baking in an oven!”  He rubbed at his eyes, trying to shade them and press them back into his skull so they wouldn’t dry out.  All he got in the form of sympathy was an eyeroll and a pat on the back.

     “There is no way Starfleet would ever let you make first contact with any intelligent species, and I mean ever.  Never, ever.” Bones said and grabbed Jim’s arm to lead him a short distance away from the shuttle as the other scientists that accompanied them disembarked.  

     There were dozens of proper, eager scientists that had volunteered to work on this crazy planet in an exchange program.  A few other shuttles landed nearby and deposited their complement of scientists, luggage and equipment.  Jim’s eyes cleared and he was finally able to look around at the unloading happening around him and was happy to discover that he wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of the heat, lack of humidity and higher gravity.  

     Everyone was out of breath, tugging their blue sciences tunic away to keep from being strangled by the material, Jim noticed he had pulled his away in the same way.  The clumsy factor was kicking in, but he wasn’t sure if that was from lack of oxygen, sweaty hands or higher gravity making things way more heavier than they should have been.  Some of the security detail were struggling with cases that didn’t give them trouble in regular gravity, but were certainly heavier on Vulcan.

     He turned back at the tug to his arm by Bones and faced forward.  The lieutenant in charge of operations planetside regarding the scientists, was frowning at both of them and pointed back to the struggling science teams.  “You guys might be guests, but you can put your backs into it while you wait for transport.”  

     “Come on Bones, looks like we gotta help out first.” Jim said, looking for one of those struggling scientists to help out.

     Bones just frowned at the lieutenant and said “Dammit man, I’m a Doctor, not a cart horse.”

     To which the lieutenant replied, “So are those guys and I don’t hear them whining about it, now get moving.”

     Jim nearly choked again as he saw the apoplectic look cross his friend's face as he began to swell up with indignation.  He shoved Bones in the back and said “They do have Ph.d’s. and technically, they are doctor’s, they’re just not the kind that can stitch you up, maybe, I dunno, it’s gonna depend on their specialty.  Come on old man, show the young lieutenant how it’s done.”  Jim shoved Bones one more time before trying to jog away or what actually passed for walking swiftly in Vulcan’s atmosphere.

     “I’m gonna murder you, and when I’m done murdering you, I’m gonna hypo you back to life, just so I can murder you again and then I’m gonna hypo you again and then I’m gonna…” Bones growled at Jim as he followed the younger man who had gotten him into this mess.

     “Yeah, yeah, yeah, murder then hypos, I get it.”  Jim smiled over his shoulder and tried, or at least attempted to run really, really fast, in Vulcan’s gravity.

 

     Following what, on most any other planet, would have been an easy process of loading equipment and luggage, everyone was experiencing various levels of discomfort due to the combined effects of Vulcan’s atmosphere.  The Vulcans who manned the shuttle bay offered assistance at one point, and Jim wasn’t sure if it was the continued buzz and grumble of dozens of noisy human voices complaining all at once, interrupting the peaceful, silent atmosphere save for the hum of machinery and shuttles, that caused them to offer aid.  

     The lieutenant in charge had waved them and their help off, it was best if these guys learned how to function on planet and acclimate as soon as possible.  Jim overheard one of the Vulcans say “That is logical,” and then tilt his head in that funny way he’d seen Spock do.  Huh, Jim thought, looks to be a species kind of motion, thing, the angling of the head.  He attempted to make the same motion a few times and stopped mid-head move, when the Vulcan he was observing turned his hard, dark eyes on him.  

     Jim blinked swiftly at the Vulcan who caught him out and attempted to slowly straighten his head back and look away as nonchalantly as possible.  He was quite certain that the Vulcan’s had never seen such a ragtag group of Starfleet officers and scientists sweating it out as much as they were doing.  They were all covered in sweat and layered in the fine red sand, and as Bones would say, even he wasn’t putting on much of a respectable showing.  Standing up, he wiped the sleeve of his uniform over his face and cracked his back under the sweltering, heavy sky of Vulcan and took a moment to finally survey the shipping yard around them.  After a moment, the Vulcan turned away and moved back to his station.  Jim let out a breath, damn those guys were intense with a capital IN and TENSE.  

     The Vulcan personnel either walked silently, or worked silently, unless it was necessary for them to speak.  Jim found it kind of odd, yet peaceful at the same time. There was no small talk or singing while they worked, which meant he didn’t hear any grumbling or cursing.  He looked over to Bones, who had rolled his sleeves up and was letting go with a constant stream of oaths and murder lists.  Curious again, Jim walked up behind one of the Vulcans who was going over a shipping manifest on a PADD, to get his fill of what passed of a Vulcans wardrobe and hairstyle, for lack of a better word.  

     This Vulcan was a far cry from their own grungy looking Vulcan that he and Bones had run into on Starbase 6.  He was of the same average height and breadth of every other Vulcan at the shipping yard, Jim wondered briefly if there were any fat Vulcans.  He was wearing clean, long sleeved robes in brown with a small repeating scale pattern in grey outlines.  Jim studied the shoulder of the long sleeves, admiring the small detail.  A rustle of fabric had Jim looking up from his perusal of the strange Vulcan and directly into his eyes.  Jim could feel himself start to flush at being caught staring, but he was pretty sure no one would be able to tell, with how sunburnt he felt...and dusty.  Fuck, now he was the grungy looking human, well played universe, well played.  He rubbed a hand across his face, leaving finger length streaks in the red dirt.  He offered up a polite smile at strange Vulcan number two.  

     The stranger’s eyes were a hard black/brown color, again, this seemed to be a common trait for them as well, except each pair of eyes that Jim had seen were darker in color than Spock’s.  Jim couldn’t be sure if they were even considering him or off in deep thought, until they flickered up and down and the stranger decided to turn fully towards him.  Jim heard another rustle of fabric and looked around.  The other Vulcans that had been working silently nearby, had slowly approached and stood side by side the lone Vulcan Jim had been studying.  He came to the realization that he was outnumbered, by three prime specimens of an ancient warrior race and he backed up a step, suddenly nervous.

     Jim heard a throat clearing, he looked back and it was Bones, trying desperately to get his attention.  He decided to ignore Bones and returned his attention to the adult male Vulcans standing in front of him.  They weren’t speaking and neither was Jim.  Jim’s logic meter told him that if the Vulcans weren’t speaking, it meant that they had nothing to say, therefore Jim shouldn’t say anything either.  It wasn’t until his logic meter got distracted by the fact that he was on a real live alien planet and right in front of him were very tall, very real Vulcans.  

     “Hi!” he said, smiling.  The first Vulcan considered him for a moment before he raised his hand in some strange V and greeted him, first in Vulcan and in Standard, the second time.  Jim raised his own hand in a similar fashion, he struggled at first with the motor coordination of getting his fingers to go in two different directions, and when he got it barely managed, he repeated the greeting that the Vulcan had said in his own language first, “ _Dif-tor heh smusma_...is that right?  It definitely sounds different coming from a true speaker, instead of a second hand educator.  How’s my accent?  Pronunciation?”

     “Inadequate.” The closest Vulcan said.

     Jim laughed and then withdrew his ill shaped hand greeting and placed his hands behind his back, he couldn’t be sure if he was still playing the whole don’t touch the Vulcans game that Pike insisted he maintain, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep at it.  He decided to take advantage of the situation and asked the Vulcans for an impromptu pronunciation lesson.  At first, they declined but, Jim said “ _Ri vath kau eh ri vath rok nam-tor na'etek hi etek kau-tor._ ”

     Jim gave a small smirk as the Vulcans as one, blinked at this statement, until they took their time looking their fill of him again and the middle Vulcan said, “ _Ish-veh ni komihn_.”  

     “ _Nemaiyo.  Kling akhlami bufik._ Dudes I’m right here _.”_

     “What is a dudes?” The third Vulcan asked, head cocked in that weird angle again, it was all Jim could do to hold his head still.

     “It’s plural in human slang for a male, a man or a boy.  Dude.  I’m a dude, you’re a dude, Bones is a dude, we are all dudes.” Jim said hooking his thumb back at his friend who was desperately trying to hide himself in the middle of nothing.  He looked back and waved before drawing back a little in startled surprise as the left Vulcan suddenly and gracefully leaned forward to study Jim’s face.  

       He drew closer, still studying him and made a comment to his friends while making a slight gesture to his own lean face.  “ _Ish-veh qual mazhivik.  Takov solek-kureklar wesh.”_ His friends both nodded to him before he turned back to study Jim again.  

     “ _Nemaiyo_?” Jim repeated himself, blinking once and the left Vulcan blinked something that wasn’t his exterior eyelids, but caused his entire eye to white out.  Jim yelped in shock and then jammed his face closer to look, startling the Vulcan and causing him to lean back himself.  “What was that!?” Jim asked, before he was choked off by Bones grabbing his collar from behind and dragging him away to where the rest of their party had gathered at the surface vehicles.  

     Bones was mumbling something about how all Vulcans weren’t meant for Jim to play with, and how not everyone wants to be his friend.  Twisting around, Jim waved good bye to the stranger and his friends on the hard packed surface of the shipping yard.  The group of three Vulcans each raised one hand in that strange V shape as the scientists, along with Jim and Bones headed out to the Vulcan Science Academy.

 

     Bones woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of Jim having difficulty breathing.  The two Vulcans that had been assigned to them as guards or babysitters, must have heard the same noises that woke him.  They quietly knocked before opening the door and entered to stand over the struggling cadet and spoke to each other softly in Vulcan.  Bones couldn’t understand either of them and swore before rising to fumble for his med kit.  He shoved the Vulcans unceremoniously aside so he could wake Jim up, he was having a hard time doing it by himself.  “That damn thin atmosphere,” Bones grumbled.

     “Should we call for a healer?” Vulcan Number One asked.

     “Not on my watch.  Just stand back.”  Bones pulled the collar down to Jim’s sleep shirt and delivered a quick shot of Tri-Ox compound and briskly rubbed at the skin that he had injected.  If they were staying here longer, he would have found an alternative method, but since they were departing after tomorrow, there was no sense in torturing Jim with making him work it out on his own.

     A few moments after the shot, Jim gasped and opened his eyes.  He rolled over towards his personal med student.  “Thanks.” he said, blinking sleepily up at Bones.

     “Not a problem, Jim,” said Bones patting his back, “Just don’t let it get that bad before you come get me.”

     “Sorry, was trying to...acclimate…” Jim stopped when he noticed the dark shapes looming behind Bones.  “What?”

     “Vulcan hearing.  You disturbed their quiet.  You also disturbed my sleep, dummy.  We’re not going to be here that long for you to need to acclimate.” Bones stood up and looked down at his head strong friend and shook his own head.

     “I’m good guys, you can go back to wherever, I’m sorry to keep you up or away from whatever.” Jim tucked an arm under his head and remained on his side to catch his breath.

     “Thanks are illogical, we did not do anything to relieve your difficulty breathing, and you are not disturbing us.  It would have been disturbing to have ignored your difficulties.  You will let us know if you need anything else, Cadet McCoy?”

     “No.” Came Bones’s short reply, he turned away from the Vulcans, “now, Jim, try to get some actual sleep so we can meet the great high poobah, get your shit and get the heck out of Dodge.”

     Jim laughed and sighed, “Great high poobah.  You do realize they can hear you right?  Be nice to the Vulcans.  Her name’s T’Pau.  Say it with me now, T’Pau.”

     “Fine, T’Pow.”

     “Close enough.  Night Bones.  Night Vulcans” said Jim rolling over turning his back to the room.

     “Good night Cadet Kirk, Cadet McCoy.” The Vulcans silently retreated from their room and into the hallway.

     “Night Jim-boy.”  Bones walked back to his own bed to the sound of Jim sniggering and replaced his hypo in its case.  He shook his head and listened to Jim settling down and when his breathing evened out, nodded his head and went to sleep himself.

 

     While their rooms at the Vulcan Science Academy were kept at temperatures comfortable for species not bred on Vulcan’s intense surface, the rest of the planet and buildings were definitely not kept as comfortable.  Back in their heavy uniforms, they did indeed think that they were going to die.  Jim fidgeted with his neck tabs to loosen his collar as they were driven through the city of ShiKar.  

     The city in itself, was a stunning masterpiece of eco-friendly dwelling on an inhospitable planet.  Most of the buildings were built well below the surface, before breaking through and reaching for the sky.  There was a mix of architecture one would see in a city on a planet as old and long lived as Vulcan.  Old, ornate squatty buildings were tucked in sections around more modern and streamlined buildings.  All of the structures were built from local stone, varying in color from light browns to deep red.  

     Everything about the city was quiet, the independant air cars moved with purpose and the shuttles and air buses were designed for mass transit, loading and unloading passels of Vulcans at various stops and corners.  Jim smiled, what did you call a large grouping of Vulcans?  Gaggles, an array, a collection, a murder, a legion, no...the silent majority.  He snickered to himself at his own wit.  The tireless desert bred population walked along the many sidewalks and walkways, their robes gracefully fluttering about their feet.  

     Jim gawked as he caught sight of a group of Vulcan children wearing odd shaped grey and black school uniforms and bags slung around their shoulders.  All of them nearly identical in appearance, except for height and hair length.  He tapped the window of their transport rapidly and caught Bones’s attention.  He felt Bones lean against him, trying to see around his bulk.  Jim turned slightly so his friend could get a better view at the kids.  Bones raised his eyebrows and pointed with his finger to the small legion of Vulcans.  One of the smaller kids with long hair at the back of the group had stopped to look down at his or her PADD, before trotting to catch back up with the group.  

     Jim nodded and murmured in Bones’s ear, “In an old house in ShiKar that was covered with vines, lived twelve little Vulcans in two straight lines.  In two straight lines they broke their bread and brushed their teeth and went to bed.  They left the house at half past nine, in two straight lines in rain or shine, the smallest one was Madeline.”

     Bones snorted and sat back with a small chuckle, “Yeah, alright, they are kind of cute.”

     Jim grinned at him.

     “When they’re kids, not full grown hobgoblins.”  Bones grimaced as Jim laughed next to him.

 

     They had been taken to the Vulcan High Council by their two Vulcan escorts, N’Evran and Tevlek.  Jim had spent the morning trying to get Bones to say their names right, to the right Vulcan.  He barely managed it.  As they waited, Jim kept eyeing the robes that they wore, he was obsessed with their simplistic design and patterns.  They were dressed in a similar fashion as the shipyard workers, except with finer fabrics.  N’Evran’s robes were in shades of green and brown and the inset pattern were of small braids with a saffron thread running through them as a highlight.

     He turned his attention to Tevlek’s robes, they were russet in color with a small deep blue, repeating geometric pattern.  Bones grabbed Jim’s arm to keep him from falling into Tevlek as he looked his fill of the pattern.  This caught both of the Vulcans attention and they turned to face the two cadets.  N’Evran raised an eyebrow, which caused Jim to smile up at him.  A second eyebrow followed and Jim couldn’t help but laugh, he wondered if this was a second little known Vulcan trait.  Tevlek said something quietly in Vulcan to N’Evran, who tilted his head a fraction of an inch and replied back.

     “What did Tevvie say?” Jim asked, looking at N’Evran.

     “If you are referring to Tevlek, he commented on the color of your eyes.”

     “Oh,” Jim crossed his eyes, as if he could see what they are talking about.  “What about them Tev?”

     “Your eyes are blue.  It is not a color seen often amongst Vulcans.  It is strangely, aesthetically appealing.  It is an interesting contrast against the red sands of Vulcan.  Is this a dominant trait in your family?” Tevlek asked, continuing to stare.

     Bones started to shake.  Jim looked up at him, but he was hiding his face behind his hand. “Shaddup.” Jim hissed, elbowing his friend, he could guess at what was passing through his mind.  Bones peeped out at him and started to cough to hide his condition.  When Jim turned around, both Vulcans were studying him most intently.

     “Thanks Tevvie.”

     “Gratitude is not necessary for a simple observation.”

     Jim let out a breath when he heard a gong sound and muttered, “Saved by the bell.”  The sound meant that they could enter and have their audience with T’Pau.

     “Finally,”  Bones muttered behind him, “Let’s get this dog and pony show on the road and get the hell out of hell.”

     “Bones.” Jim whispered, shifting his eyes back to N’Evran and Tevlek.

     “What.  They know it’s hot for humans here.  Remember, they’re a logical species.”

     The gong sounded again and N’Evran and Tevlek moved gracefully forward, almost floating, to open the heavy doors that lead to the council room.  In the center of the room, beneath where the council would normally be seated, stood T’Pau, a single chair and another Vulcan in somber grey robes with saffron patterns.  T’Pau was the oldest Vulcan that Jim had ever seen, her small wrinkled figure was wrapped in grey and cream colored robes with small floral patterns to them, her hair was pulled back into an elaborate braid at the back of her head.  She held her hand out to the lone chair and invited Jim to sit.  He walked forward and bowed to her first before taking a seat, “It is an honor, lady T’Pau.”

     “James Tiberius Kirk, thee are to be given secrets of Vulcan.  Dost thou accept these secrets in exchange for thine silence?”

     “Um.  Yes?”  Jim cringed inwardly as T’Pau’s dark eyes gazed steadily on him.

     “Thou accepts.  We will place these secrets within you, subdermally.”  she raised her hand to indicate the Vulcan standing next to her.  “N’Arcissus is one of our Healers, he shall perform the procedure.  Remove thy coat.” Jim began to undo his fastenings, but he was stopped by Bones’s voice, ringing out into the hall.

     “The hell he will!” Bones barked, shoving his way forward.  “There is no way I’m letting some Vulcan hudu healer surgically insert something made of I don’t know what, containing something I don’t know anything about.”

     “Bones,” Jim whispered, grabbing his friend’s arm, his fastenings forgotten, he eyed T’Pau as she gazed serenely into the face of Bones.  She didn’t make a noise, she didn’t flinch, she just observed a young human throw a temper tantrum.  Bones respectfully lowered his voice, but he didn’t cower from such a still demeanor.  

     “No Jim, you’ve gone into this blindly, someone has to watch out for you if you’re not going to do it.  If you’re set on doing this, then if anyone is going to do a medical procedure on you, it’s me.”  Bones continued to glare down at T’Pau.

     “It is but a simple hypo insertion of a surgically sterile implant.”

     “Fine.  If anyone is hypoing him, it’ll be me.”  Bones studied the implements laid out in front of him and determined that everything was sanitary.  Jim sighed and looked apologetically at T’Pau, but she said nothing.  She was studying Bones as he was studying the instruments.  Bones removed his own cadet uniform jacket and rolled up his sleeves all while asking N’Arcissus about the makeup of the implant and where it was manufactured.  

     Once he was satisfied with the answers, he nodded to Jim and told him to take off his jacket and sit down.  T’Pau watched the interaction between the two as Jim removed his jacket and rolled his sleeve up and argued with Bones about how he’d prefer the Vulcan over Bones’ hypo happy hands.  As Bones began the procedure, N’Arcissus was watching over Bones’ shoulder, Jim once again glanced over at T’Pau, and Jim could have sworn that he saw a faint glimmer of laughter in her ancient eyes.  When Bones had finished and sealed his skin, Jim rolled down his sleeve and hopped off of the chair and moved to put on his jacket.  T’Pau’s hand and voice stayed him.

     “I would meld with thee first, James Kirk.”

     Jim froze and blinked up at her, “Meld, what’s that?” he asked,

     “Thee are aware that our species is telepathic through touch?”

     “Yes ma’am, that’s like Vulcan 101 at the Academy.  Don’t touch the Vulcans.” Jim gave her his most charming smile.

     “A most succinct action regarding a concept I had not thought Starfleet capable of instilling in its young.  I would meld with thee, enter thy mind and secure the knowledge of this procedure and what you carry far within your mind to keep it safe.”

     “I can keep a secret, that’s why I’m here.”  Jim said.

     “Thee can keep secrets from species that are not telepathic, but thee can not keep secrets from our kind without help.  I offer this help to thee now.  Do you accept.” T’Pau asked once more.

     “Jim,” Bones said quietly and shook his head, “You can’t let someone stir around in your brain!”  Jim considered Bones and chewed on his inner cheek.  He considered T’Pau’s suggestion, it had merit. As a Vulcan, she would have more experience with this sort of thing regarding Vulcans and their touch telepathy.  He did not fear her and if what happened at the Starbase was going to happen again, well, it wouldn’t hurt to have some added protection.  The lowering of inhibitions never led anyone down the smartest path.  He nodded to T’Pau.  

     “Alright.  Alright.  Better safe than sorry.  Loose lips, sink ships and all that, right?”

     “Sit, James.”

     Jim sat back down in the chair and looked up at T’Pau, she approached him slowly and gracefully, raising one hand.  Bones moved to stand on Jim’s other side, frowning at the two of them.  T’Pau placed her hand along Jim’s face, arranging her fingertips gently along his temple and cheek.  Jim’s brow furrowed, her skin was paper thin and cold in the planet’s heat and felt soothing.  He leaned into them in relief and she said something in Vulcan that he had never heard before.  Her fingers were firm and cool, warming against his skin for a split second and then she was gone yet not, she was there.  She was both old and young, comforting and terrifying.  A strange texture of sand and silk running through him shades of charcoal and slashes of Vulcan red.

 

    Curious, he reached for her.  She paused in her journey to let him inspect her presence.  He withdrew before he became too much of an annoyance and tried to settle in to watch her efforts of creating a stronghold to house the secrets he carried, she tolerated his curiosity.  He thought about Spock and how this would….

     “Thou knowest mine grandson?” asked the dry, ageless voice within his mind.

     Jim tucked what he had been thinking about out of the way, like a kid kicking his dirty laundry under his bed so that his mom wouldn’t find it.  Nothing to see here, but there was nowhere to hide.  “It was an accident,” he tried to think at her.  He imagined bumping into someone in a crowded room, hoping she would understand.

     “I see.”

     Jim couldn’t be sure, but he could have sworn he felt something bordering on amusement pass through him.  She tried to brush against the memory, but he held it tight, holding it away from her.  

     “Would you like to forget this meeting?”

     “No!  Don’t make me forget him!” said Jim, stiffening under her fingers.  She pressed more firmly against him.

     “Then perhaps there is hope after all,” she said, leaving his memory alone and moving on, continuing her constructing of something within his mind and leading his thoughts about what he is transporting and where it is located.  

     “Is he really your grandson?” Jim asked, watching her work.

    “We are from an ancient line.  He is son of my son, therefore, he is blood from my blood, born from my house.”  T’Pau said, there was a glow of pride in her mind as she talked about Spock.

     “I’d just like to go on record and say that he started it.” Jim said, jokingly.

     “He is very much like his Father in that sense.”  She said, and ignored the rest of Jim’s curiosity as she focused his mind on a data disk that will be given to him and stored in his travel case.  Once she had reconfigured his memory and sealed the truth away, she began to back out.  Jim felt the rushing sand and silk as it departed.  One lone length of gray and red slowed during her exit and brushed Jim with what he would describe as fondness, one last time.  Coming out of the meld, Jim smiled and it grew into it’s one hundred watt brightness as he stared up at the small, aged lady.

     “You alright?” Bones asked, leaning down to peer into Jim’s eyes.  He reached for an eyelid, but was quickly batted away.

     “I’m fine, it’s fine.  Wanna try it?”

     “No.” Bones said, standing back up quickly.

     “James, here is the disk that thee are to carry to Captain Pike.  We thank thee for thy service.”  T’Pau held out a small data disk in a case that she pulled from inside her robes and handed it to Jim.  Bones frowned down at what she had given Jim and he turned to her, but N’Arcissus gave a slight clearing of his throat and Bones just thinned his lips.  Jim tucked the disk away in his pocket and rose from the chair, Bones grasping his elbow in a steadying grip, his jacket was pushed into his other hand..

     “It has been a pleasure lady, I look forward to meeting you if our paths cross again.” Jim gave her a sharp salute.

     “The galaxy is both small and vast at the same time.  We shall meet again, young James.”  With that, T’Pau raised her hand in the Vulcan greeting and said “Live long and prosper.”

     Jim and Bones gave the salute the best attempt they could do and took their leave of T’Pau. The gong sounded and the doors opened, revealing N’Evran and Tevlek standing statue still.  Walking out, Jim shrugged into his jacket and looked back at the small, female Vulcan.  He gave her a jaunty wave and smile before the doors closed and they were escorted back to the shipping yards.

     A shuttle was waiting to take them and other personnel not staying on Vulcan, back to the _Thresher._ N’Evran and Tevlek stood quietly to the side as the pilot powered up the shuttle to leave.  The doors opened and Bones grabbed his travel case that had been delivered to the yards and made for the ramp, muttering about how relieved he would be as soon as he could get off that hot rock of a planet.  Jim unzipped the top of his travel case and carefully placed the disk inside.  He unfastened his collar and turned to the two Vulcans watching him.  “Nevvie, Tevvie, it’s been swell-”

     “Jim!” Bones called from the interior of the shuttle.

     “Hang on!”  Jim called back over his shoulder.

     “Let’s go!”

     “I said hang on old man!  He’s worse than my Mom,” Jim said to the two Vulcans standing before him.  “Anyways, Nev, Tev, it’s been swell.  Live long and prosper.” He raised his hand in a rough approximation of the salute and smiled.  

     His grin got wider as N’Evran and Tevlek responded with, “Peace and long life, James Kirk.”


	6. Reunion

     The _Thresher_ departed Vulcan space, leaving the scientists behind and carrying, unbeknownst to them, a classified document hidden beneath the surface of the cadet currently hanging spoons off of his nose in the mess hall.  Their next stop would put them on Starbase 47, three days out of Earth’s Spacedock where Bones would leave Jim in the hands of the courier company that employed their target.  This wasn’t sitting well with Bones, to leave his young friend high and dry while he left him to board the _Andromeda_.  Pike had been firm, Bones was to leave him alone and continue on, no arguments, no cheats.  He was also to comm Pike and let him know he had dropped Jim off at the meeting point.

     Bones was striding along, looking down at his PADD, rolling his travel case behind him.  His brows furrowed as he followed the coordinates that had been provided to the location in the Starbase where Jim was supposed to meet the representatives from the courier company.  

     “Wonder how big the courier team is going to be for this thing.  Also, how much security are they providing?” he mumbled.

     “What?” Jim asked, slightly breathless from somewhere behind him.

     The older man turned to look back and rolled his eyes, Jim wasn’t paying any attention to where he was going or what he was saying.  He was too busy gazing at everything and everyone around him, again, his case bumping into things and people.  “Jesus Jim, you look like you’ve never been in a Starbase before, focus.”  All that earned him was a quick grin and a tongue stuck out in his direction.

     “Spoil sport.  What were you moaning and groaning about?”

     Bones let out an exaggerated sigh before it was cut off abruptly by Jim punching him in the shoulder. “Ow, stop that.  I said, I wonder how big the courier team is going to be for this thing and how much security will they be providing.”

     “It’s just the one I think. Uff,” Jim finished his sentence with a grunt as he plowed into the back of his friend.  “Hey!”

     Bones slowly turned to face him.  “The one?”

     “Huh?” James asked, standing back and resting his travel case upright.

     “You said the one, said Bones holding up one finger, “The one.  Not team, not several, the one.”

     “Yeah, it’s only one courier escorting me and the-”

     “Shush.” whispered Bones harshly.

     “You did NOT just shush me?” Jim asked incredulously.  Oh dear, he thought, Bones has gone off the deep end.

     “I did, you’ll survive, if I don’t kill you first.  What do you mean one?  The amount of money this particular service costs-”

     “How do you know that?” Jim interrupted Bones, curious, because even he didn’t know that.

     Bones showed the PADD to Jim.  “You showed me the company name and I looked it up dummy.  You think I’d just let you go waltzing off into the unknown all by your lonesome unprepared!?”

     “Thanks Mom, I appreciate you looking after me.” Jim said, crossing his arms around his chest as the Starbase occupants continued to flow around them while Bones decided to have a fit in public.

    “One courier, one courier Jim, against-” Bones spread his arms out wide and waved his hands around in the air.

     Jim mimicked his move, letting go of his case. “Against what Bones?  The starbase?”

     “No you idiot, all of that, out there, out of the starbase.  All of that versus you and one courier.”

     “Sounds like good odds.”

     “Well they’re not, and I don’t approve of this at all.  What about the expense to Starfleet for one measly, little-” Bones was cut off by a deep and sibilant voice.

     “Vulcan.”

     Bones stiffened and turned slowly to see the degenerate looking Vulcan from their time at Starbase 6.  “You gotta be kidding me!” he exclaimed.

     “Vulcans do not kid.”

     Bones remained where he was, staring before taking the steps back to press his back against Jim, who was still standing mid-corridor, pushing him back and away from the Vulcan, leaving Jim’s travel case where it stood.  

     “So” said Spock looking Bones up and down, “you're his man-space-friend.” He ignored them both and walked over to Jim’s travel case.  “You should be more careful with your belongings.  Someone might take them, and then where would you be.”

    Bones heard Jim choking behind him, he turned his head slightly to glare down at Jim’s reaction to the Vulcan’s statement.  Since Jim wasn’t done being useless he proceeded to introduce himself, “Leonard Mccoy and yeah, I guess I am his man-space-friend.”

    “But, to answer your question, the number of persons escorting your friend will be two.  One Vulcan and one Human engineer.”

     “Well, gee, I guess I should be thankful for the little things.” Bones said, sneering.

     “It is illogical to be thankful for promised provisions and Mr. Kyle is anything but little.”

     “That wasn’t meant as a thank you!” Bones blustered out, his face turning red.  “Can you believe this guy?”

     “Then you shouldn’t have offered your gratitude.”

     “Why you...Jim, no.  Absolutely no.  This is madness!?

     “Don’t you have a ship to catch?” Jim asked, finally done being useless.  While choking behind Bones, he had managed to smooth his face back into a somewhat calm facsimile of amused lines and stepped out from behind his friend.  He smiled shyly up at Spock.

     “Identification and shipping receipt?” asked the Vulcan, holding his hand out.

     “Surely you don’t need that,” smiled Jim, winking at Spock.

     “No one is allowed on the company’s ship without proper identification and paperwork.  Now, if you please?” Spock said, still holding his hand out.

     Jim rolled his eyes and fumbled in his case for his identification and PADD for the shipping receipt.  Once found, he shoved them both under the Vulcan’s gaze.  Spock gently and without touching Jim’s hands relieved him of these items.  He quickly perused them and then pulled out his own comm and used it to scan the barcodes of Jim’s I.D. and receipt, before handing them back to Jim.  Spock looked down at his comm and waited for Space Post’s program to validate the documents.  When they did, his comm let out a soft pinging sound.  He nodded, put his comm back into his pocket and stretched a hand out to take Jim’s case.  

     Jim started to open his mouth, but before he could say anything, Bones’s hand shot out to stop Spock.  Before they could make contact with each other, Spock quickly withdrew his hand.

     “Now,” said Bones, “That’s all fine and dandy, but let’s see your identification and paperwork.”  Jim watched as a silent showdown happened right in front of him.

     “Oh for Christ’s sakes.” Jim hissed, kicking Bones in the ankle.

     Bones shifted his weight and frowned down at his erstwhile roommate.  “Shaddup, if you’re not going to look after yourself, let the adults in your life do it for you.  I’m going to ask this one more time, where’s your identification and paperwork?”

     Spock reached into his shirt and pulled out a lanyard holding various security badges and showed them to Bones, who leaned forward and squinted.  Not to be anything but annoying, Jim, without thinking, made to grab for the hanging badges.  Spock flinched, his fingers were but a few centimeters from where the cadet’s hands had grabbed hold.  Jim noticed the flinch and studied him curiously.  

     “I can’t see what they say with your mitts in the way, put your hand down.”  Bones said, he slapped at Jim’s hand and they both froze as a slight snarling sound came from above their heads.  They both looked up confused, before Spock decided that he was done with their human foolishness.  

     “We have a schedule to keep.  A Vulcan keeps their promises and their schedules.  If we may cease with this nonsense, it would behoove us to ready for departure.  Say goodbye to your man-space-friend.”  Spock said tucking his lanyard back into his shirt.  He took a few steps away and waited for the two humans to cooperate.

     Bones pulled Jim away a few paces and whispered, “I don’t like this.”

     “You don’t have a choice.  I’m on a mission, remember.”

     “Are you sure this is the-”

     “Bones!” Jim said, before Bones could let something important slip.  He glared warningly up at his friend.

     “Well, fine, but are you sure?” Bones asked in a softer tone, silently pleading with the God’s above that Jim turn down this errand.

     “It’ll be okay.  I’ll see you back home, alright.” Jim said, grasping Bones by the shoulder and giving a brief squeeze.

     Bones pulled back and looked at his young roommate and friend.  Such a young man for such a big job.  “You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do right?  Nothing at Starfleet is worth this?”

     “I gave my word Bones, there’s nothing more valuable.”

     Spock watched as the older man with the serious face spoke quietly to the younger man.  Whatever Jim said, it seemed to reassure the older man.  Jim smiled and grabbed his friend in a quick hug which the older man tolerated for a few moments before disentangling himself.  The young man laughed and then slapped his friend roughly on the back, before brushing past him to grab his travel case, laugh up into Spock’s face and settle by his side.  

     Bones shook his head at the odd pairing that they made.  One lone, dour, serious faced, raggedy looking Vulcan and St. Jim, the veritable ray of sunshine, all prim and properly dressed in his cadet reds.  There was no way these boys could ever get along, Bones’s face dropped into a heavily wrinkled frown as he glared from one to the other.

     “Shall we go?” Jim asked, desperate to leave before Bones said something that blew his real mission.  Spock nodded and turned to lead the cadet away to Space Post’s ship.  He noticed as Jim looked back a few times and waved, before they were completely down the corridor and turning, leaving his friend behind and out of sight.  A soft sigh escaped from Jim, before he turned and continued to follow Spock.

     For the first time, Spock began to experience the niggling, nagging sensation of a human emotion.  Worry.  He looked down at the “package” he was escorting and wondered at the small sensation crawling at the edge of his peripheral senses.  He realized that the cadet was too...something, too much, too noticeable with his bright head of hair, eyes and his too bright smile.  These, in combination with the trademark red of his cadet uniform made him stand out amongst the crowd of seasoned space farers crowding the many corridors of the Starbase.  The cadet turned to look up at him and grinned when he noticed Spock’s frowning attention.  “Penny for your thoughts?”  

     “I am afraid that my thoughts can not be purchased for a non-existent form of Earth currency. “

     “Joking, Spock.  Human idiom, but, seriously that face, what’s up?”

     “As you are quite aware, the ceiling of the Starbase is currently above us.  Other than that, relative to a planetary body, there is no up or down in space-”  Spock’s voice trailed off as a burst of bright laughter came from Jim as he stopped in his tracks and doubled up with it.  

     Spock glanced around and noticed quite a few of the occupants of the Starbase pause to look back and stare at the scene that  Jim was making.  Spock grabbed his arm and gave it a small shake.  “You will cease that noise.” He stopped as the sensations of Jim’s surface emotions, dulled by fabric, simmered up beneath his touch, amusement and interest, tinged with a deep sense of curiosity and determination fluttered under his fingertips.  

     Jim’s hand reached up out of reflex to grasp Spock’s elbow for a moment, Spock relaxed a fraction of an inch at this willing contact he didn’t know he had been waiting for.  He kept his hand firmly wrapped around Jim’s arm, even as Jim began to try and withdraw his arm and body away from Spock.  At this small tug of war, Jim quickly got his laughter under control, wheezing through the end of his laughing spell.  

     Jim stood there silently with his arm caught between them, held in Vulcan strength.  Spock felt the panic rising through the other emotions and attempted to send quiet reassurances to the struggling cadet, before he recalled himself and swiftly withdrew his hand, as if he himself, had been burned.  He stared down at the human arm hanging in mid air before it returned to it’s owners space.  “Hey, touch telepath, do not glare at me so, for it was thou who touched first and I touched last.” Jim said, smiling as Spock blinked at his choice of wording.  “I’m psi-null, remember,” Jim tapped his skull, “I can’t shield like you can, so if YOU don’t want to hear what I’m thinking or whatever then you need to more careful.  I was just standing here, minding my own business.”

     “Vulcans do not forget.”

     “Uh-huh.  That’s interesting, they say the same thing about Earth’s elephants.  They never forget, like, they remember where they were born, where they have traveled, which in their herd has died, where they go to die and how to get back there, so that they can die with those from their herd to keep them company or something.  Wow, I never realized that Vulcans were a lot like Elephants.  I mean you look more like a cat than anything, with the whole ears and quiet feet, although I’ve never heard an elephant walk before, they could be kind of quiet I guess,” Jim had begun to walk down the corridor again, rambling as he went until he noticed that Spock was not with him.  He looked around swiftly and found Spock was still standing where they had stopped.  “Spock!” he said, “Come on.”  Spock did not move. “Here kitty, kitty.” Spock frowned at him and still didn’t move.  Jim let out a small huff of air and walked back to Spock, banging lightly into various persons in the crowded corridor.  “What!?”

     “You asked to purchase my thoughts.”

     “Uh. Oh yeah.”

     Spock stared hard at him.  “Human.  Allowed to forget and move on, remember.” Jim said, he couldn't be positive, but he was sure that the slight relaxing of Spock’s posture, before he tightened it back up again, was supposed to indicate a sigh.  Jim smiled up at the cranky looking Vulcan.  “What, like, do you really want a penny?”

     “Since that type of Earth currency has long since been out of production, I do not believe that you would be able to produce said coinage even if I demanded it.”

     Jim stood still as he processed what it was that Spock had actually said.  “All right, no I don’t have a penny, jeez.  Anyways, you looked like you were thinking about something.  Would you like to share with the rest of the class?”

     “I do not wish to share anything with a class, only with you.”

     “Wow, Spock, I feel special.” Jim laughed as one of the angry eyebrows shot up.

     “I do not understand why you can not speak any form of Standard that I can understand.  It would appear that your education in elementary grammar and sentence structure was not sufficient.”

     “Spock, spit it out.” Jim said and laughed as BOTH eyebrows shot straight up this time at his choice of words.

     “Cadet.”

     “Jim.” Jim said, firmly.

     “Cadet Jim.” Spock said, corrected.

     “No, just Jim.  Just like you are just Spock.  You’re not my instructor, nor are you affiliated with Starfleet in anyway, so no calling me cadet.  Just Jim.  By the way, I can play this game all day”

     “What game is that?”

     “Annoy the Vulcan Elephant.” Jim said and he watched Spock’s posture do that little hitch again.  He catalogued it in his brain as Heavy Vulcan Elephant Sigh.  “So, before you find a third eyebrow to launch off your face, if you have anything to say to me or if you have a query, please, enlighten me.”  

     Jim watched as Spock silently vacillated before opening his mouth to say, “You are too obvious.”

     Jim’s voice became short and clipped. “Beg pardon?”

     “The color of your uniform and the coloring of your humanoid genetic makeup combine to make you stand out amongst the others of this base and I predict the other starbases we are required to stop at.”

     Spock was surprised by the cadet’s short response when it came.  “Solution?”

     “I realize we can do nothing about your genetic makeup, but we may be able to do something about your cadet reds.  Do you have alternative clothing that might be appropriate to the situation?”

     “You know I do.” Jim waved to his travel case. “You want me to change clothes?”

     “It would be best.  I have a few more packages to pick up from this base and we will stop again.  I fear that it would appear odd for a cadet to be wandering around without other Starfleet personnel.”

     Jim looked down at his scarlet uniform and then around at all the other people passing them by.  Spock had a point, they were either dressed in regulation uniforms or civilian clothing.  He furrowed his brow, he didn’t have any of the other regulation uniforms, just his civvies.  “Alright, alright, give me a minute.  Where are the bathrooms on this bucket?”

     Spock led the way a few doors down and pushed the door panel to open.  “Hey,” said Jim, “this time, I go in alone.”

     “Negative.  I am in charge with delivering you safely, I can not leave you unsupervised,” and with that Spock pushed Jim and his travel case into the bathroom and locked the doors behind them.  

     “Are you serious!” Jim slammed his case down, hard on the ground and rested his hands on his hips.  “Look tall, dark and sexy, regardless as to whatever happened before, I am not taking my clothes off in front of you in a public restroom!  That’s a big no. Big N, Big O.  NO.”

     “As tempting as it is to think about you disrobing in front of me, I believe you would be more comfortable utilizing the individual stalls which offer a semblance of privacy.”

     Jim turned around and saw the stalls with their doors, some of the air left his chest and he sagged in relief.  “Oh yeah.”  He snatched the handle of his travel case up off the floor and wheeled his way into one of the stalls and slammed the door shut, locking it behind him.  “No peeking.”

     “I have no plans to peek, as you say.” Spock said.  He moved to lean against the bathroom wall, one eye on the door, the other eye trying not to catch a glimpse of what was happening on the other side of the stall door.

     “Alright, alright.”  Jim slammed his case open, “but this is gross, getting dressed in a bathroom.”

     “You suggested it.” Spock replied calmly.

     “Well, not all my ideas are great.” Jim muttered under his breath, but Spock and his Vulcan ears heard him anyways.

     “I will be sure to note that.”

     “Yeah, you note that.”  Jim looked to the door and rolled his eyes, he had been naked in front of other people, so this was nothing new, but damned if he didn’t feel more exposed than he had ever been buck naked running through the Starfleet dorms.  He stripped off his shoes, uniform and grabbed jeans, shirt and cardigan from inside his case, before throwing his uniform in, closing the lid and getting redressed as fast as he could.  

     Spock watched with some amusement and appreciation as Jim came rushing out of the stall, face flushed, clothes a bit crooked and his hair sticking up in different directions.  “I’m done, let’s go.” Jim said, rolling his case past Spock where he began to bypass Spock’s locking codes on the door panel.  

     Jim was lagging behind Spock as they make their way through the starbase.  He stopped talking awhile back, after Spock refused to acknowledge anymore of his inane chatter.  As a Vulcan, Spock didn’t see the logic in wasting time or breath in human small talk, but the silence behind him was slightly eerie.  He cast a brief glance behind him and saw Jim silently absorbed in everything around him.  From the walls of the corridors to the various people and species that made up the crew and occupants of the Starbase.  

     People kept bumping into Jim as his attention wandered all around him, which was what was slowing him down and impeding his progress.  Spock stopped and waited until Jim ran straight into him from behind, not noticing that the tall Vulcan had come to a complete halt.  He mumbled out a small sorry and spared a brief glance up at Spock before smiling at the single eyebrow that slowly crawled up his forehead.

     “What’s up?” Jim asked.

     “Your pace was unexpectedly slowing down and as we have yet to make it to the ship, I must inform you that we are going to be behind schedule if you do not walk in a more efficient manner.”

     Jim blinked for a moment before raising one of his eyebrows “I would say I’m sorry, but I didn’t realize we were on such a tight schedule.”

     “This is true, you would not have.  I had to postpone a drop off due to an engine malfunction, in order to retrieve you first.  Now that you understand the situation, it would be preferable if you perambulated expeditiously.” With that said, Spock turned and continued to proceed in the direction of the docking bays, eager to be on his way.  He spared one more glance behind him and Jim was again, not doing the most adequate job of keeping up, he was still quite absorbed in his surroundings.  

     Spock frowned again, this fascination with the occupants and starbase in and of itself was odd.  Jim was a Starfleet cadet and on an errand, surely he must have spent time in space and with off worlders, to be sent out like this.  His behavior did not make sense to Spock.  He stopped once more and turned, his elbow catching Jim in the sternum, a soft “Uff,” came from Jim as he bounced off.  He rubbed his chest where Spock’s elbow had made contact.  “Yes?”  he asked.

     “You have traveled through space before, have you not?” Spock asked.

     “Yeah.” Jim said and tried to walk on, but Spock only waited where he stood.  “Well, not until recently.  Mom and Dad used to take us with them when we were little, but not as we got older.”

     “Have you been off world?”  Spock asked.

     “Uh-huh.”

     This answer did not satisfy Spock, he moved to the wall of the corridor, providing some shelter between the people and Jim.  “Aside from a starship or starbase?  Have you been planetside anywhere?” Spock asked.  He watched as a slightly vacant look passed over Jim’s face as he briefly looked through Spock, rather than at him.  Jim gave a small nod.  Curious, Spock asked, “What planets have you been to?”  

     Jim’s eyes stuttered back to him and a curt reply followed “Three planets, including Earth.”

     “What were the other two planets?”

     “One was Vulcan,” said Jim and he noted the quick flicker of muscle in between Spock’s eyebrows as a minute frown passed over his features at the mention of his home planet.

     “An interesting choice.” Spock responded drily.

     “I thought so.”

     “Indeed,” Spock could barely imagine the fair skinned, blond cadet standing on the surface of his desert planet, such a human was not meant for the harsh conditions his planet offered.  He continued with his question, “and the second?”

     Strangely, the glib cadet just shrugged his shoulders and said “Does it matter?”

     “I am merely curious.”

     Jim huffed out a small laugh, “Can’t know everything, unless you know something, huh Spock?”

     “And you are choosing not to share this mysterious ‘something’ with me?”

     “Something like that.  Come on, according to that legendary Vulcan logic, you’ve got a schedule to maintain, let’s go.”  And with his case rolling behind him and his hand sawing the air, Jim walked past Spock and continued to speak,”Lay on, Macduff, and damned be him who first cries! Enough!” Jim flashed a grin over his shoulder as Spock and his long legs caught up with him.

     “As you wish,” Spock said, catching Jim by the arm as he stumbled while gaping up at him.  He raised his eyebrow again, “Is there a problem, Jim.”

     “I can’t believe you said that.”

     “As you wish?”

     Jim laughed and again found himself playing another game of tug-of-war with a Vulcan strong courier, before relaxing and letting Spock lead him on down the corridor using his arm and setting the pace.  “I bet you don’t even know where that’s from!”

     “I believe it comes from the Federation Standard vocabulary.  It is something I have heard many a ‘human’ use.  Am I incorrect at the appropriate usage of the terminology?”

     “No, no, you’re not.  You got it spot on.  Spock on!  And wow, you’re pretty handsy for a touch telepath.” Jim said, trying to tug his arm free again.

     Spock sighed, “Now you are being facetious and you obviously require aid in maintaining proper speed.”

     “What kind of rebel Vulcan are you, if you can’t be silly or walk like a rebel, all slow and shit?”

     “I never said I was a rebel and since you know I am Vulcan, then you must also know-”

     “That Vulcans don’t do silly?  I’m not sure about the slow, but surely, you must sh-”  Jim was interrupted by a slight pressure and shake of his arm as Spock grunted.  Jim sniggered to himself and continued speaking, “but you do leather and tattoos and haircuts that aren’t standard bowl shaped.  Can I say that I am so glad you don’t have that terrifyingly severe line going across your face.  I’m not sure exactly if that actually works with angled, angry eyebrows, or is it better to say angry, angled eyebrows”

     Spock remained silent again in the face of Jim’s non-sensical chattering as it started up again.  He also said nothing as Jim eventually faded into silence, as he was absorbed back into his surroundings and allowed Spock to continue to lead him by his elbow.

     “If you’re not a rebel, then what are you?” Jim asked finally after a few seconds of silence, his eyes focused on his surroundings and not Spock.

     Spock raised his single eyebrow and Jim raised his in return, but it was a pretty lame attempt.  He wondered if Spock spent time each day exercising that one muscle and how many hours of practice did he devote to it.  If Jim wasn’t careful, he’d develop an unhealthy obsession with Spock's angled, angry eyebrows to the point where he’d start to name them.  In fact, he better stop thinking about this subject because he was already filing through his category of names (SASS AND MASTER) and he finally refocused on Spock and saw that he was waiting patiently for Jim to realize how dumb his question was.  

     “Aside from being a Vulcan, ok yes, what’s up with this whole look?”

     “My look of concern is for your mental well being.” Spock said, still leading Jim.

     “Hahaha, real funny.  I’m onto you.  You’re a bit rough looking for a logical son of Vulcan though, so what gives.  I’ve seen Vulcans, they don’t look like you.”

     “I am not a rebel.  I am a Vulcan and a mail courier, traditional Vulcan wear would only get in the way.”

     “The shipping yard Vulcans were wearing robes and doing manual labor.  If you call it manual labor, standing around, not talking,” Jim said, scratching his head, “Although, what you just said does sound pretty rebellious for a Vulcan.”

     “You are rather unrebellious, for a human.” Spock said, his monotone nearly lost on Jim in the noisy corridor.

     “What?  I am rebellious, I’ll have you note.”  Jim said, tugging on his arm again.

     “Indeed, so you are not currently following orders issued by Starfleet and being led by me?”

     “Oh, well, when you put it that way, kinda, sorta, maybe....yeah.  But I’d like to put before the jury, that I have plenty of demerits to my name, that I wasn’t ordered to do, but that-”

     “You were still punished for because you violated orders and regulations in a society of distinguished scholars and you obeyed your-”

     “Were you punished for your choices Spock?” asked Jim, interrupting, “I imagine a Vulcan courier is not something a traditional son of Vulcan chooses, therefore someone on Vulcan must not be happy with you.  Especially if you’re not dressing like one.  You know, sometimes we cast off that which makes us look like what we ran away from.”  Spock’s eyes flickered and became hard, like two black diamond chips at Jim’s insight.  Jim swallowed hard and shut his mouth.  

     With a satisfied look, Spock continued,  “As I said, you are rather unrebellious for a human.”

     “You try having a Vulcan stare you down with a death glare.  Just, shut up and let’s go.”  Jim stepped away from Spock and waved his hand on down the corridor, wishing he had kept Bones with him, if not for support, then for someone to tell him to shut up.


	7. Surprise, Bitches.

     Captain Pike stood on a busy street corner, waiting for the light to change so he could cross the street.  Air cars and bikes whooshed past him, his hair lifted every time one passed.  Above him in the city skies, other layers of commercial and commuter vehicles passed in between the mix of old and modern buildings.  Quaint brick stood out amongst the slick glass and smooth concrete.

     With all of the noise and pedestrians walking around him chattering with their friends or on their own comm units, Pike didn’t hear his communicator chirp at first.  During a lull in the street traffic, it finally registered to him that it was his chiming at him.  Trying to avoid hitting the other pedestrians, he juggled his brown paper sandwich bag and PADD in his hands to grab his comm out of his jacket pocket.  He flipped it open and looked briefly down at the number, but he didn’t recognize it.  Pike shook his head and flipped it shut, sending the call to voicemail.  

     The light changed and after looking both ways, he crossed the street, heading back to his office after visiting the deli that he had run into for lunch.  While his secretary would have been happy to order something for him, sometimes he needed to get out of the walls that contained him for the greater part of the day.  Some days he chose to eat in the student cafeteria and he would wait in line with the students to be served non-replicated food.  

     Even though he held the rank of Captain and was an Instructor, he was mindful not to cut in line.  If he stood in line, he’d pick up on more gossip, help a kid out with a homework problem, bounce simulation situations and solutions around and get to wink at the lunch lady, causing her to blush and the students to giggle.  Today he decided to run down to ‘The Spaceman’s Sandwich,’ a deli that had been in San Francisco since the turn of the century.

     It was housed in one of the old red brick storefronts with shutters and large front shop glass windows that were still handpainted with pictures of sandwiches and the daily special.  If he timed it right, Ernesto, the owner and descendant of the original owners would be in and he’d make Pike’s sandwich special, if he stopped and spent time chatting with him.

     Ernesto was a quick witted, heavy set fellow with a fast mouth and an even faster brain.  It was rumored that one of his ancestors was part Tellarite, to which Ernesto laughingly refused to deny.  Aside from standard Terran sandwiches, Ernesto smartly tailored the shops menu to include combinations of ingredients from off world planets.  This quality menu along with the proximity of the eatery to Starfleet provided Pike with another stream of local and off world gossip.  

     Pike’s communicator chimed again and when he opened it and saw that it was the same unknown caller, he ignored it once more.  Pike fumbled with his PADD and sandwich bag as the communicator began to light up with incoming texts from the unknown caller.  

     “ _Hey you!”_

     “ _:XXX”_

     “ _Winky Face!”_

     “ _Good morning handsome!”_

     “ _Would you rather go to work or hang out with me?”_

     “ _Hope you’re having a great day!”_

     “ _Thought I’d say hello!”_

     “ _Come over, I have all your favorites. Pizza, beer, and of course, ME.”_

     “ _I know you have a busy day ahead of you, but could you add me on to your to-do list?”_

     “ _Let’s play 20 questions. What’s your name? What’s your favorite color? Wanna go out with me Saturday night?”_

     Pike froze and stared at the screen of his comm as text after text from the unknown caller came rolling in.  “What in the hell?” he asked, his mouth dropping open, stunned.  By the time the 60th text came up on his screen, he was shaking his head in defeat and shifted his bag and PADD under his left arm and called the unknown number back.  Someone deserved to be rewarded for their persistence.

     “Who is this,” he said quietly into his comm.

     “I can’t say,” came a soft, feminine voice.  Pike frowned down at the screen of his comm as if he willed it enough, the person would magically appear.

     “Can’t say or won’t say?” He asked.

     “Mmm, a little bit of both.  I like both,” she purred.

     “How did you get this number?” Pike asked, looking around him, he shaded his eyes against the rare San Francisco foggy free day.

     “Are you looking for me, sweetheart?”

     “And if I am?”

     “Well, you’ll not find me.” She giggled.

     “In the city, country or the planet?”

     “T’ooh, we are playing 20 questions?  God I may actually love you.  Hmmm, not city.”

     “Country?”

     “Nope!  This is getting exciting!”

     “Planet?”

     “Ding Ding Ding!  Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a winner!  Step right up and claim your prize!  It’s a kiss!” The unknown caller blew a kiss into the mic of her comm.

     “Where are you?”

     “That's not important. What's important is that I know something you don't know,” she sang in a teasing voice.

    “You'll have to be a bit more specific. I know a lot.”  Pike was recalled to his location by being jostled by a pedestrian, he mouthed the words excuse me and settled near the corner of one of the nearby buildings

     “You won't know thiiiiiis.”

     “So, tell me. I know you want to.”

     “Mmmm, you have a very lovely voice and that's great and all, but I want something. So I”ll trade you what I know for something I want.”  She said, turning serious.

     “What it is you want, depends on the information that you have.” Pike leaned back on the wall and crossed his hands over his chest, his sandwich now squished to a pulp.

     “Oh, well now this is more like it. I like you,” purred the voice, “But remember, I’m only here to help you, not hurt you, but I can't say for sure what condition you’ll find your little red birdie in by the time you do find him.  Without my help, I can’t guarantee you’ll ever get him back, or if he’ll ever be the same again, if you're not willing to trade.

     Pike pushed himself away from the wall and paused as he processed what she was saying, “If you harm one hair-”

     “Remember, I'm here to help. Now, do you think the information I can provide you is good enough for what I want?”

     “What do you want?”

     “Admission into Starfleet Academy.” She again sounded serious, her playful tone gone.

     Again, Pike was caught by surprise and he pulled his communicator away and stared at it. “Come again?” he asked.

     “Oh I really like you. I want guaranteed admission into Starfleet Academy, preferably the computer science division. I’ll even take your admission tests, just to help you plump up my file and give you some cover, but I want in. Oh and a letter of recommendation from you.” she said firmly.

     Pike stopped to consider for a moment.

     “Going once, going twice,” chirped the pleasant voice.

     “Fine, it's a deal.” said Pike.

     “Sold! To the man with the sexy voice. Oh tell me you have salt and pepper hair,” she sighed, “I love older men! Actually, I love all men, are you single by chance, even though that doesn’t really matter.”

     Pike laughed, he couldn't help it.

     “Okay,” she continued, “now let's get down to the juicy gossip about your little red bird.”

     “Go right on ahead.”

 

     Fifteen minutes later and Pike was storming his way across Starfleet headquarters.  He stayed on the paths crisscrossing campus, just barely managing to stay off of the grass.  Students walked swiftly back and forth going to classes or back to their dorms.  He quickly sidestepped large groups or gave a brisk wave as he was recognized, not stopping to talk.  Groups of students lounged on the grass studying or eating their own lunch, his lunch, a squashed brown wad, forgotten in his anger.

     Running up the steps to Starfleet headquarters, he brushed swiftly past aides and ensigns as he made his way to his office. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath.  Some of the people that had managed to enter the elevator with him looked sideways at each other before Pike glared them down and they lowered their eyes.  

     When the elevator dinged and opened on his floor, Pike strode directly into his office.  He completely ignored his secretary as she lifted her eyes from her screen and opened her mouth to say something, he didn’t know what and he didn’t care.  He jammed his hand against the door panel, cursing that he couldn’t slam it properly as it closed behind him.

     Once he was done coloring his office red with his foul language, he slammed his lunch and PADD on his desk to try and calm down.  He sat down heavily at his desk and began to comb through his student files, searching for something he had remembered off hand.  He scanned the list of students in the Linguistics and Communications department and found Nyota Uhura’s name.  

     He tapped his fingers on his terminal screen as he took a second to think.  There was no time, Uhura would be able to handle what he wanted and she was Junior enough to keep quiet.  He would have preferred to have been able to call Jim for the stunt he was about to pull, in the meantime he would have to rely on his secret weapon, his secretary.  He hit the comm on his desk. “Martha, Martha get in here.”

     She opened the door and stayed posed in the doorway.  “You need to watch your manners.  I’ll only let you get away with that behavior so often.  What has your Starfleet regulation undies in a twist?”  He waved her in and she cautiously approached him.  He lowered his voice to whisper in her ear. When he was done, she stepped back and nodded at him, without a word, before taking his chair.

     Martha placed her fingers on his terminal and laid waste to Starfleet’s security, private and ‘Fleet emails.  Basically, all communications were now open to her.  She found Admiral Komack’s cache of communications and turned the monitor to Pike.  He was furious, his source was right, he had sent Jim, favored son of Starfleet unwittingly into a trap.  He kicked his trashcan.

     Martha looked back up at him and cleared her throat, “His secretary, Clint has also been hanging around lately.  Normally I don’t run into him, but a few days ago he was looking for schedules.  Apparently Komack wanted to do some student reviews and personnel evaluations.”  Martha crossed her arms along Pike’s desk and leaned her chin on them, looking up at her boss.

     He looked down at her, “When has he ever bothered himself with that crap?”

     “Never.  He seemed to be particularly interested in Kirk and McCoy.  I called over to Starfleet Medical and according to my friend, Christine Chapel, one of McCoy’s classmates, Clint tried to set up an ‘advising session’ with McCoy.  Komack is not his advisor.  He has no business advising med students anyways.  Shit,” she said.  Pike met her eyes as she mouthed the words “Sarek’s son.”

     Pike let out another long string of curses before closing his eyes and said “Shit, Jim and Spock.  Spock and Jim.  God dammit.”  

     “Has he made confirmed contact yet?  Do you have time to call him back in?” Martha asked.

     Pike sighed, “Yeah, no, McCoy confirmed.  He let me know he dropped Jim off with Spock.  This is an absolute cluster fuck,” Pike growled as he paced back and forth.

     “How did you know to look for this type of communication?  Especially in Admiral Komack’s communications?”  Martha asked, eyeballing her boss.  “What spy do you  have tucked away that I don’t know about?”

     “It was an anonymous source with enough details.”

     “Anonymous?”

     “An anonymous Orion female, or some female who claims they’re Orion.”

     “I see, what now?” Martha asked tapping her fingernails on Pike’s desk.

     “I’m going to bring in another person to help us out.  I can’t go through official Starfleet communications.  I may even have to bring Ambassador Sarek in on this.  He’s not going to be thrilled with this development, but if I try to hide it from him and it goes sour, we probably won’t survive his wrath.”

     “And what about the Kirk’s?” asked the secretary.

     “Absolutely not.  George could fly off the handle and put this discovery at risk.  He doesn’t even know Jim is not on campus.  This is going to get very real, very soon if I can’t get those boys back.  I might not be able to hang Komack for this if George decides to handle it face to face.  Komack would deny, pull and burn everything.  Ambassador Sarek is the way to go.  Hopefully his communications aren’t being monitored.  I’m going to have a face to face with him, now!  Also, call Cadet Uhura in and have a face to face with her, nothing over comms until I get back.  I’ll need her to speak with my contact immediately, there are things getting lost in translation and I don’t speak female, much less Orion female.  I want to know what stage of the plan they’re at.  My contact will get back with me this evening.  Schedule a counseling appointment for schedule review today or something harmless.  Make it a direct order if she tries to push it off.  I’m leaving for the Vulcan Embassy.  If someone asks, I’m taking lunch out of the office.”

     “Again?”

     “Make something up!” Pike yelled as he stormed back out of his office.

     “Rectal examination at Starfleet medical it is!” Martha yelled at his retreating back.  She grinned to herself as Pike threw up a hand in acknowledgement.

  


     Once his identification was confirmed at the front desk of the Vulcan Embassy and Ambassador Sarek was notified of his presence, Pike was escorted through the elegant embassy building.  The interior was bright with windows placed to catch as much of the natural sunlight that San Francisco had to offer.  The watery sunlight reflected off of warm wood floors and hard, light colored stone walls that were carved to mirror the landscape of Vulcan.  If you looked carefully enough, you would find a Lematya hiding amongst the rocks and a herd of wild Sehalts. Pike had admired these landscapes on previous visits, but he had no time to play ‘Find the Lematya’ today.  

     If Pike hadn’t been used to standing at parade rest for hours on end and enduring Admirals shouting at him over view screens on his own bridge, he would have fidgeted in front of Ambassador Sarek.  He was quite proud of himself, he didn’t cause the hardwood floor underneath his feet to creak by shifting his weight, nor did he fiddle with his hat and uniform.  

     Once Ambassador Sarek had finished listening to what Captain Pike had discovered from his anonymous Orion source and communications from Komack, he rose from behind his desk.  He clasped his hands behind his back and quietly considered the bookshelves behind him along the wall.  He slowly stepped out to stand near Pike, who took a slow steadying breath and watched the Vulcan Ambassador quietly glide to a stop.  His traditional Vulcan robes whispered as he walked, they were in muted greens and greys.  The grey nearly matching the neat cap of salt and pepper hair.

     “I’m sorry, I didn’t anticipate this.” Pike said in a low voice, his fists clenching finally.

     “Kaiidth.” said Ambassador Sarek unclasping his hands and bringing them forward to separate them, palms up.  Pike frowned at the familiar word and tried to recall what he had learned of the Vulcan language.

     “Ah,” he said, “Let it be?”

    “It means, what is, is, but that is as close a sentiment I have heard a human describe it.”

     “You are not worried?”

     Here, Sarek’s dark eyes studied Pike some more.  “I am Vulcan, to worry, is an emotion attached to an action.”

     Pike held up his hands in surrender, “My apologies.  Is there anything you suggest we do about this situation?”

     Sarek considered Captain Pike’s words carefully and quietly.  He glanced over at the small picture in his bookcase, his small family gazing out at him.  “She who is his Mother will be very humanly displeased and worried.”

     “Again, my profound apologies.”

     Sarek held up one hand, “She has worried before, she will worry again.  This will anger her when she finds out.”

     “When?”

     “I do not keep secrets about my son from his Mother.  To do so is illogical and unwise.  It is difficult, but not impossible to hide anything from one’s bondmate.  I am shielding as we speak, but even though I do so and she has no information about what is happening now, she will know I am shielding from her and ask for an explanation.  I do not wish her to overreact.”

     “Well, at least your diplomatic immunity will cover her if she chooses to overreact.”

     “This is true.  Now, we can not retrieve the data from Mr. Kirk at this moment.  Intercepting and halting a Space Post courier is almost unheard of.  According to the delivery schedule we were sent, they have no other Starbases left to stop at.  They will be in open space.  By the time we manage to contact the company and Spock, it very well may be too late and they will have been captured and our plans to encourage Spock to accept his admission into Starfleet will fail.  You can not send a Federation Starship to intercept, because they are unaware of what you are doing and the admiralty will want an explanation.  I will speak to T’Pau and see if there is anything she recommends for this situation that we find ourselves in.  You said the anonymous Orion will contact you again this evening?”

     “Yes.” Pike said, nodding his head, he was monumentally glad that he had approached Ambassador Sarek.

     Sarek picked up a communicator from his desk and said “Let us assume that your communications will be monitored.  When she calls you back, tell her you will contact her on a secondary device.  Use this.”  Sarek held out the communicator and waited patiently for Pike to take it.  He frowned at the small communicator in the Vulcan's hands before he smiled, solving his own problem.  He held  his Captains hat out.  Sarek raised one eyebrow, at Pike’s thoughtfulness and solution.  He lowered his face, hiding his expression and placed the comm gently in Pike’s hat.  

     “You have my appreciation Christopher, for the care that you are showing the children.”

     Pike huffed out a short laugh, “Jim’s young, but it’s been awhile since he’s been a child.  So this is what it’s like to have kids, huh?”

     “Indeed.”

     “Thanks Sarek,” said Pike holding up the comm device.

     Sarek inclined his head, “I will inform you about what T’Pau has to say on this matter.”  He raised his hand in the traditional Vulcan salute.  Pike returned it with a sharp salute, even though Sarek was not military.  Respect deserved respect.


	8. Attack

     Jim stopped dragging his travel case when he entered the docking port and looked out of one of the observation windows.  He whistled appreciatively at the sight of the ship that they would be travelling in.  He pressed close to the bulkheads and smooshed his face against the clear viewing port to get a better view.  She was small and light, with smooth, sleek and silver curves, with the bridge and main view screen high and center.  

     “She’s pretty ain’t she?”

     Jim turned to see the same short, heavy set man that had been talking to Spock at Starbase 6.  He smiled and stuck his hand out to him, “Jim Kirk.”

     “Ah, so you’re our package!  Name’s Kyle and that’s our girl, ain’t she a beaut!” The engineer shook his hand with a strong, energetic motion.  When he removed his hand, Jim noticed the remnants of black grease, he wiped his palm quickly on his jeans and grinned back.

     “The unflinching need that humans have for anthropomorphizing inanimate objects is something I will never understand.  A ship, is simply a ship, man made from inanimate, unthinking and unfeeling parts,” drawled Spock as he walked back to join Jim and Mr. Kyle.  Spock had continued on, but stopped as he heard Jim whistle softly behind him at the sight of the ship.  

     “It’s a sexy ship, Spock,” said Jim with a smile, “Tell me she’s not pretty!”

     “Alright, she is not pretty.”

     “Pfffffffff,” came Jim’s reply, like a little balloon deflating.  Mr. Kyle looked scandalized at Spock’s comment and hooked a thumb back at him and leaned into Jim with a conspiratorial wink.

     “He thinks she’s pretty too.  It’s just the Vulcan in him what won’t let him say it out loud.  Huh, Mr. Spock?  That little green man in there zipping your lips again?” Mr. Kyle poked Spock in the belly as he walked away towards the sexy ship.  Jim was left with his mouth hanging open in silent laughter as Spock raised an eyebrow at Mr. Kyle and watched him walk away.  

     “When this trip is over, I am reapplying for another engineer,” mumbled Spock.  

     “I think he’s sweet,” said Jim, just to needle the Vulcan.  “Come on Spock, show me this sexy ship of yours and tell me all about that little green man that lives inside you.”  Jim laughed as Spock turned quickly on his heel and muttered something in Vulcan.  

 

     Spock and Mr. Kyle prepared the ship for takeoff, and Jim was left alone to explore as much of the ship as he was allowed to, until Spock would call him back before he could really sink his curiosity into the ship’s workings.  He had yet to make his way back into the engineering part of the ship.  Aside from Spock noticing every time he tried to make his way back there, when he did manage to finally open the access hatch, he was stopped by Mr. Kyle.

     “Aw, come on, I just want a peek,” Jim said trying to slip out of Mr. Kyle’s grip.

     “Nope, packages stay in the cargo hold.  Have a nice trip, there’s a good lad!”  With that, Mr. Kyle pushed Jim back into the cargo hold of the ship, gave him a little pat on his head and shut the access hatch.

     “Damn.”

     Following his banishment from the bowels of the super, sexy ship, Jim turned back and discovered that he was able to look into the small galley, sleeping quarters and the smaller cargo holds.  He identified all the emergency accesses and points of entry.  

     “Hey, what’s in here?” He asked, toeing the packing crate making small purring noises.  He put his ear to it.

     “I am not allowed to divulge the contents of any of my deliveries,” came the dry monotone from the pilot’s seat.

     “I bet it’s Tribbles.  I’ve read about them, but I’ve never seen one.  You don’t think they’d miss it if I took one do you?  I bet I can get in and get out without them knowing about it” Jim said as he tried to peek through the rough wood slats of the crate. He jerked as a shadow fell over him and flinched away from the Vulcan in such close proximity.  Spock looked down at him with some concern, his arms were neatly clasped behind his back, he had no intention of touching Jim, unless it had been absolutely necessary.  He wondered if he might be a bit Xenophobic with all the avoiding and detangling of any physical contact.

     “I would appreciate it, if you would refrain from stealing from the client’s shipment.  I doubt it if the client who is expecting your arrival would be pleased if someone stole you, before they obtained you.  My employers would also be displeased.  Barring unforeseen events, my delivery record is impeccable.”

     Jim edged himself around to crate to lean on the far side, “Whoa, hey, I might be rebellious, but I’m not a thief.”

     “Then why would you say that you would take one?”

     “I was partly joking and partly problem solving.  I swear, I’m not going to steal anything.  Scout’s honor.”

     “I am unfamiliar with what a Scout is, so it holds no meaning of honor to me.  Do not say that which you do not mean, it becomes confusing.”

     “Yeah, okay, sure...that might be kind of hard though...for a human.”

     “Illogical.”

     “Aren’t we,” said Jim smiling.  Spock continued to frown at Jim, but when he saw that Jim was not going to seriously interfere with the contents of the cargo hold, he turned back to resume the pilot’s seat.  “Yeesh,” muttered Jim.

     Final prep and flight checks had been made and they were given permission to remove docking clamps and depart.  Jim had been buckled into one of the passenger seats until they warped away from the Starbase.  Once safely at warp, he unbuckled and began to wander back where his travel case had been stored.  Spock acknowledged his movement with a slight angle of his head and a slightly raised eyebrow.  When he had ascertained that the cadet had only moved into the small cargo hold, he focused back on the ship’s controls.

     Their next stop was to deliver the delayed shipment from earlier to Starbase 17.  They would have to swing further out for this drop off, before making a direct flight to Earth’s Spacedock.   Spock punched in the coordinates and in doing so, glanced at the ship’s sensors.  He frowned as something flickered on the screen.  He maintained his course headings and kept glancing down and sure enough, although it was faint, there was an intermittent blip following them on the sensors.  It was enough to make him suspicious and he contacted Space Post, requesting a new set of course headings to Starbase 17 and was promptly given a new set as requested.  They knew better than to second guess their Vulcan courier.  As he adjusted his course, the blip no longer appeared on his sensors.  

     Jim removed his PADD from his travel case before he squatted behind the purring packing crate and pried open one of the slats.  “Bingo,” he whispered, looking around swiftly, he pulled out a small purring tribble.  “Ha ha ha.  Jim 1, Vulcan 0.”  He proceeded to toe off his boots and threw a packing blanket on top of the crate, where he climbed up and settled down.  

     Leaning out, he checked to see if Spock had noticed his tribble heist, but Spock seemed intent on ignoring him as he paid attention to piloting them along their route.  Jim tucked the purring tribble under his cardigan and slouched against the bulkhead.  He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he booted up his PADD and considered the errand that Pike had sent him on.  He shook he head and sighed, why oh why did he agree to this nonsense.  

     Besides, what might he say to Spock regarding Starfleet, how would he start the conversation.  He started mumbling to himself, “Hey Spock, you’re familiar with Starfleet right?  Hey Spock, about Starfleet.  Hey Spock, did you ever think about joining Starfleet?  Enlist in Starfleet, go into Space, explore new worlds!”  Jim smacked his face, “Vulcans made first contact with Earth. They’re way more advanced than we are, ugh, Bones was right, space is stupid.”  

     What did Starfleet have to offer this Vulcan who seemed to be content with his life.  Sure, it was an odd life choice, but he had made it.  Jim could respect that.  He let out a huff and flipped open his comm.

    “What,” Bones said answering immediately.

     “What do I say?”

     “Is this what you called me for?  Well I still don’t know!  This was a bad idea.” Bones hissed.

     “Now you tell me.” Jim sighed and slid further down on the packing crate.

     “I told you the entire time!  Just get off the comm and go talk to him.  Something will come up.”

     “Well now you’re talking.”

      _-Click-_

     “Bones?  Bones?  Damn.  He hung up.” Jim threw his comm down on the blanket.

 

     With a silent Spock in the pilot’s seat, navigating and a purring tribble on his chest, Jim decided to mimic the conservation of words as he had with the other Vulcans.  He sat back and leaned against the bulkhead behind the crate, put his reading glasses on and began to read one of the novels off of his PADD, hoping something would come to him.  He must have dozed off to a combination of the reading, the tribble and the humming of a moving ship.  He was startled awake by a soft touch on his shoulder.  “Whuzzat?” he mumbled.  He brought an arm up to wipe any drool that may have happened and blinked up through crooked glasses at what woke him.  “Oh hey.” Jim said in a lame greeting.

     “They make retinax for your condition.”

     “Huh?  Oh, my glasses.  Yeah, they do, but I’m allergic.”  Jim stretched and yawned, before realizing that he was still in possession of a stolen tribble.  He moved his PADD up, so it was covering the bump in his cardigan.  Here’s hoping that the other purring tribbles would cover his tribble’s sounds.  A question sprang to mind and he opened his mouth before he thought about it and shut it quickly again.  Spock thought that was odd, so he waited a few seconds before he realized that the cadet wasn’t going to continue.

     “You were going to say something?”

     Jim smiled, “Uh huh, but it was sort of a really obvious question-” Jim yawned again, his jaw cracking, “Sorry, so I didn’t say it.”

     “30.5 minutes.” said Spock, in answer to an unspoken question.

     “Huh?”

     “That is the amount of time that you were asleep.  I predicted that your obvious question would have been ‘was I asleep and for how long.’  I chose to answer it as concisely as possible.”

     Jim looked beyond Spock to the front of the ship.

     “We are on autopilot.  You had ceased to make any noise, so I came to ascertain your whereabouts and safety.  As you were only sleeping, I see that I needn’t have been overly concerned.  I will return to pilot the ship.  We should arrive at 8:00pm terran time.”  Spock continued to monitor the quietly blinking cadet who was still not speaking.  “Jim.  Your silence disturbs me.”  

     “First I talk too much and now I’m too quiet.  Boy, you blow hot and cold, don’t you?”

     “I only have one temperature and it is 91 degrees in Fahrenheit.”

     Jim sniggered at this remark.  Spock’s shoulders relaxed a bit at this small noise.  “I was lulled to sleep by the soothing sounds of the tribbles,” said Jim as Spock turned to head back to the pilot’s chair.  He stopped at the entrance to the cargo hold, his hands still behind his back.

     “Make sure you replace the one you removed.  As I said, I doubt your clients would be happy if someone shoved you down their sweaters.”

     “No, but I might be happy about it!” Jim called out, giggling.

     Spock raised the one eyebrow that Jim was beginning to think of as Sass, the leader of the pack of eyebrows.  Spock quickly departed to the sounds of sniggering and snorting that Jim was producing.

 

     As Spock had predicted, they arrived safely at Starbase 17 at 8:00pm.  Jim had to reluctantly put the tribble back in the purring packing crate as Spock watched, before he carefully resealed the packing crate and lifted it onto an air cart, followed by a couple of heavy canisters that had to be unbuckled from their restraints before they could be moved.  Jim raised his eyebrows and admired the impressive feat of Vulcan strength.  

     Mr. Kyle emerged from the belly of the ship and took Spock aside, where they had a quiet conversation.  Jim couldn’t hear what they were saying, but both Spock and Mr. Kyle didn’t look very happy about whatever it was.  Mr. Kyle shrugged at a pointed question from Spock and waved his hands around in the air.   Spock shook his head and repeated what he said, this time Mr. Kyle quietly thought about what his answer should be and again gave Spock an answer he didn’t like.  

     Mr. Kyle disappeared back into the belly of the ship and Spock pulled out a communicator and spent a few unhappy minutes on it.  When he was done, he came storming, well,  Jim knew Vulcans didn’t really storm, it wasn’t in their nature, but if Vulcans could storm, then this guy was doing a fair interpretation of a little, gray rain cloud.  “Problems?” asked Jim.  Spock ignored him and grabbed the handle of the air cart.  

     “Stay on the ship,” Spock said curtly before exiting into the docking point.  “This is not your stop.”   

     Jim blinked a couple of times and put his hands on his hips, “First he makes me give back the tribble and now I have to stay on the ship!”  Jim waited for five minutes and when no one came back in that time he shrugged and said “Fuck that, I stayed and when I come back, I’ll stay some more.”  He went to the exit, cracked his knuckles and hacked a few lines of code before the security system beeped and let him out.   “Success,” he whispered and headed out to explore the tarbase.  He didn’t care what Bones said, all starbases weren’t the same.

 

     Spock returned to the ship, hoping that Mr. Kyle had been able to discover where the problem with the engines was.  This would be the second time that there was a flux.  His boots made hard ringing sounds against the surface of the small cargo hold, it was again quiet, there was no noise coming from where he had left the cadet. He spared a quick glance and saw nothing unusual before entering the domain of Mr. Kyle.  He was holding bits and pieces of spare parts, old and new.  “The fix I did at 14 didn’t hold.”

     “Will we still be able to make warp?”

     “As soon as I cobble some of these back together and talk dirty to her, we’ll be able to warp, but it’ll be limited.”

     Spock closed his eyes, momentarily recognizing the feeling of frustration and willing it down and himself into a calm state.  “Sorry, Mr. Spock,” said Mr. Kyle, eyeing him.  

     “Apologies are not necessary, you did nothing wrong.  My employers will not be pleased with any additional delays or with the makers of this craft.  Fix it as soon as possible and let me know when we can depart.  I will inform my boss and the starbase that we will need to finish a repair before we can leave.”

     “Aye, Mr. Spock.”

     “I will also inform Mr. Kirk.” said Spock, turning back to the entrance to the cargo hold.

     “You do that.  How’d he enjoy base 17, you don’t usually take packages out with you,” said Mr. Kyle, absentmindedly sorting through the pieces in front of him.

     “I did not take Mr. Kirk with me, I ordered him to remain on board.” Spock said, looking back at Mr. Kyle.

     “Oh dear,” said Mr. Kyle, “Looks like we have a problem then, because the kid ain’t on board.  I went up to grab something to eat a few minutes ago and he wasn’t there.”

     Spock went predatorily still at this news, his entire attention focused on Mr. Kyle playing with engine bits.   “Why did you not say something,” he growled at the engineer.

     “I didn’t know you ordered him to stay!”

     Spock didn’t hear him, he was already running back up to the cargo hold of the ship and bridge.  He searched quickly for Jim, but he didn’t see him.  There were not a lot of hiding places on the small ship.  He called his name in case he had fallen asleep somewhere he hadn’t thought to look.  Nothing, no sound came from the ship.  

 

     Nobody gets in the way of an angry Vulcan, especially a snarling, angry Vulcan.  The personnel and space travelers jumped out of his way as fast as they could, as he stormed his way through the base.  Spock was cursing himself and Jim, because he had failed to get a comm number from him, so he had no way to contact him in an emergency.  

     Spock growled in frustration again, causing a Ferengi pushing a crate of alcohol to jump and scoot to the side and into some rather large travelers that shoved him back into Spock.  The Ferengi hissed, until he realized that he was stuck between Spock and some hard looking Orions.

     “My apologies,” the Ferengi ground out with a smile.  He looked between the two species and rolled his eyes before pushing his load back in the direction he had been heading.  

     Spock and the male Orions eyed each other briefly.  Curiously, one of the males elbowed the second one and nodded his head to Spock.  They both smiled at him.  He felt his skin crawl before saying  “Excuse me,” and striding away to follow the Ferengi.  He had a hunch that whatever bar was serving Terran labeled beer, he would find Jim.     

     Jim’s shoulders automatically hunched as he saw the Ferengi bartender freeze up and look past him.  “Fuck,” he muttered to himself.  He offered the terrified Ferengi a small smile before he knocked the last of his drink back, or tried to.  A leather clad arm shot out and stayed his arm that was holding the glass and the human and Vulcan began an impromptu arm wrestling session before Spock unleashed his Vulcan strength to slam Jim’s hand down hard on the bar.  Jim winced at the sound and force, hoping that the glass wouldn’t crack.  

     “You are underage,” said Spock, hissing in his ear.

     “Not according to my I.D,” said Jim, flipping open his wallet.  Spock frowned and saw that the identification that Jim displayed did indeed show that he was of age to drink.  

     “This is incorrect,” he said.

     “Says who?” Jim asked, trying to pull his arm back.

     “Me.” Spock said, snarling in his face.

     “Well, gee Mom, that answers my question.”

     “This is not the identification that you showed me when you checked in and I am not your Mother.”  Spock said, releasing Jim’s arm.

     “Could have fooled me,” snorted Jim, reaching for his drink again.  “Dammit, Spock, I paid for that!” he hissed as the Vulcan grabbed the glass and dumped the contents behind the bar into the small sink.

     “Then the bartender won’t be upset.  Do you often frequent establishments that serve alcoholic beverages to minors?”

     “No, it’s just where you tend to find the most diversity on a Starbase.  It’s where I found you.”  Jim smiled at Spock and patted him on his shoulder.  “Hey!” Spock scooped up Jim’s wallet and grabbed Jim by the scruff of his neck.  Jim was twisted off his bar stool and pushed through the crowded bar.  “If you didn’t want people to think that you’re my Mom, you’re doing a pretty bad job of it.”  

     Spock released the back of Jim’s cardigan and pushed him forward, between the shoulder blades, hard.  Jim stumbled and turned, but Spock kept pushing him until Jim’s back hit a door and he stumbled backwards.  It wasn’t until he was lying on the hard cold floor that he finally got a chance to look around.  Metal stall doors, boring, dingy white tile and urinals.  Spock had pushed him into a men’s room and was in the process of locking the door from the inside.  

     “Wow, deja vu, what gives?” said Jim, from his prone position on the floor.

     “I told you to stay with the ship.” Spock said quietly, turning around.

     “And I did.”  Jim began to stand up, dusting his backside and off.  He eyed Spock’s stance, his legs slightly braced apart, he looked like he was in a fighting mood.  Jim was in no mood to fight a Vulcan.

     “No you did not, you are clearly, not with the ship.”

     “I know.”  

     “I do not understand.” Spock said, grinding his teeth together.

     “I did stay with the ship, you just didn’t say for how long.  So I stayed and then I left.”

     Spock stepped up into Jim’s personal space.  “When I tell you to do something, I expect to be obeyed.”

     “I think not.” Jim said hotly, refusing to budge.

     “Think again.”

     “You are so not the boss of  of me!” Jim exclaimed and he couldn’t believe it, but he actually stamped his foot down on the floor.

     “Yes I am.  I am in charge of the safe delivery of my cargo and since you qualify as cargo, I am therefore in charge of you and your safety.  So when I tell you to stay with the ship, you will stay with the ship, and you will not leave until I give the command to do so.”

     Jim’s mouth dropped open at Spock’s last statement and he sputtered out, “You hold no rank, you can not command me to do anything!  Nowhere in my delivery contract does it say I have to obey you.  Nowhere.  Nor does it say that I’m to be treated like literal cargo!”  They stood toe to toe again, two giants breathing each other’s air, staring at each other.  “You’re shoelace is untied.” Jim blurted, trying any tactic that would get the angry Vulcan to de-angrify himself.  Jim didn’t feel like being turned into a pile of mush in the men’s room.

     Spock’s lips thinned and tightened as he gave one slight twitch that Jim couldn’t decide if it may or may not have been a Spock sigh or if Spock was on the verge of lunging for one of Jim’s arteries.  “No, I’m serious.  That’s like a safety violation or something.  Starfleet regulations say that all fastenings must be fastened properly.”

    “I’m not in Starfleet,” said Spock.  Jim could have sworn he literally growled that sentence out.

     “Yeah and why is that?”  Jim decided to use this as his opening.  Bones said something would come up and well, Jim was pretty sure this wasn’t what Bones meant, but he was going to take the opportunity when it presented itself.  

    Startled, Spock blinked slowly, “Why is what?”

    “Why aren’t you in Starfleet?”

     “I have no wish to-”

     “And for that matter,” Jim cocked his head and began to circle Spock, looking him up and down.  Spock became slightly uncomfortable, but withstood the human’s scrutiny until Jim reached out a finger and brushed one of Spock’s eyebrows.  Spock jerked away and stared in shock at the human who was smiling at him now, with the tip of his tongue sticking out.

     Spock narrowed his eyes as Jim decided to finish his sentence “You are Vulcan, got the eyebrows and all-” he interrupted himself once more to brush another finger softly up one of Spock’s ears.  Spock took another step back and this time, he did growl out loud, “the other things that make a Vulcan, a Vulcan.  So why aren’t you on Vulcan doing Vulcany things.  Why are we in a bathroom doing non-Vulcany things?

    “You are not making any sense.”

    “I’m not the Vulcan who doesn’t look like a Vulcan, ferrying space snail mail, not attending Starfleet Academy or Vulcanfleet Academy, dragging humans into bathrooms and locking them in.  Is this a Vulcan thing?  Cuz if it is, we need to talk, like what do your parents think of this?”

    “You will leave my parents out of this.  This is my life, my decisions.”

    “Well, I’m just saying, they’re crappy decisions, for a Vulcan.” Jim said shrugging.

    “I am also half-human.”

    “Still crappy.  Double crappy, or is that half crappy.  Spock, you still haven’t answered my question.  Why are you locked in a men’s room with me and not in Starfleet?”

     “I do not wish to be locked in a men’s room with you or in Starfleet.  Nor am I obligated to answer you.” Spock said, pulling himself up straight.

     “Well I’m not obligated to stay on the stupid ship on a perfectly safe and functioning starbase!” Jim said, jabbing his finger at the floor.

     “It would appear that we are at an impasse.”

     “Do you want another kiss?”

     Surprised, Spock said the first thing that came to mind truthfully.  “I only did that to silence you.”

     “Fine, wanna silence me again?  You locked the door, no one will see us.”

     “You are an extremely frustrating, human.” Spock said, his fists clenching at his side.

     “See, now we’re starting to get along.  So let’s narrow it down, not in Starfleet, not on Vulcan, locked in a men’s room with one hella hot human asking for a kiss.  Wow your life sucks.”

     “When you put it that way, it does indeed, 'suck', as you have said.”

     Jim laughed, the tension draining between them until a knock came on the bathroom door.

     “Hey, anyone in there?  I gotta clean this bathroom today,”  followed by mumbling and clumsy handling of the door panel.

     Spock looked between the door and Jim, who was slowly moving away from him until his back was against the wall, looking up at him from beneath lowered lids, blue eyes glinting in the harsh bathroom light.  Everything has a price, and the cost of taking the time to appreciate Jim and the submissive picture he presented, was a smile.  Spock watched as a curl of that smile began on one side of Jim’s lips before it slowly curved its way to the other side, completing a sunny smile, the flare of a thousand suns.  

     Deciding to play along, Spock advanced until he was but a hair's breadth away, just barely hovering, not touching and again, caught the tell tale signs of increased breathing and a flush creeping up Jim’s neck, his smile fading as he began to stare at Spock’s lips.  Spock began to lean down when the janitor finally gave up trying to override Spock’s commands to the door’s operating system and used the manual override and slid the door open.

     “For Christ’s sake,” yelled the Janitor, “This ain’t the galaxy high club! There are plenty of other rooms on this floating bucket, that you can find the privacy to lock yourselves in and do that sort of stuff in, but not in the bathrooms that I maintain-”  The janitor was interrupted as he was stunned from behind and pushed inside to land in a heap.  

 

     Spock quickly pulled Jim behind him and reached for his own phaser, belatedly realizing that he had left it with the ship per starbase security regulations.  He gave a silent curse as the two large Orion males he had seen before, when he had bumped into the Ferengi while searching for Jim, entered.  “Move away from the human, the Hunter wants him untouched.”

     “Uh,” said Jim from over Spock’s shoulder, “Hate to break it to you, but I’ve been touched.”

     “That is a pity, but still, the Hunter prefers that you remain untouched by that one, or any others, until you are sold to your new master.”

     At this announcement, Spock felt Jim inhale suddenly, press against his back and clutch a chunk of Spock's jacket.  “We do not want any trouble,” said Spock, eerily echoing Jim’s words to him from their first bathroom encounter.  If Spock were human, he would appreciate the irony in this situation, however, since he was not he could only analyze the irony presented to him.  

     “Then come with us and no one gets hurt,”said the first Orion male.  The second male, had slipped in under the cover of the first and was edging slowly around Spock and Jim.  

     Spock’s gaze swung to the second male as he made his movements slow and steady, a phaser aimed at them.  Spock pressed his right elbow back and against Jim, guiding him to the left until he had tucked him between the wall, a urinal and Spock.  Once Jim realized what Spock was doing, he began pushing back against him, he pressed, but he was no match for a dense and stubborn Vulcan.

     “I am charged with seeing to the safe passage and delivery of all packages and their carriers to their proper destinations.  I can not let you take him.” Spock said firmly.

     “You could volunteer to come with him, if you like, but you have no choice in the matter.  We want him and the information he carries.  We will also be taking you, we need access to your ship.  The Hunter was pleased when he discovered that you were the accidental….bonus prize, and is happy to add you to the auction catalogue.  The two of you will fetch a pretty price.  More so since Vulcans are known to be untouched.  It’s a shame we won’t get to use you before The Hunter sells you.”  The Orion said, leering at Spock.

     Jim felt Spock’s spine stiffen at this remark and he turned a startled look up at Spock who only glanced down at him once and Jim swallowed, “Untouched.” he whispered and looked back up at Spock.  These Orions were about to get their hands on a prime specimen, only now did Jim finally understand the value Spock’s unique biology and culture carried, he was priceless.  

     Vulcans were a monogamous species.  They didn’t enter into relationships lightly, they weren’t built to tolerate multiple users.  Well,  if anything deserved protecting, it was definitely monogamous, virginal Vulcan flesh.  Wow, that almost rhymes thought Jim, I’ll have to tease him about that later, but first, escape plan ‘get the hell out of here.’  

     Still tensed, Spock realized that he wouldn’t be able to protect Jim anymore than he could protect himself right now.  He glanced between the two Orions and began calculating distance, force and probabilities.  Spock felt Jim release the tight grip he had on his jacket before he felt the most curious sensation coming from behind him and he froze.  Out of instinct, he pressed back once he realized what Jim was doing.  Wedged between Spock and a urinal, Jim was trying to slide down his body to find a way out.  Jim let out a soft grunt and continued to wiggle his way down Spock’s back.  “If you don’t want me to get a face full of your ass, I suggest you move,” he grunted out.

     Forced to choose between one indignity and another, Spock chose the lesser of the two and stopped pressing back.  Jim continued until he managed to wiggle past Spock’s backside and decided that he would press his luck, because Jim was Jim, and he couldn’t see not taking advantage of a small situation.  He paused to take a small nip out of Spock’s firm backside.  

     Spock jumped, allowing Jim even more space to slide down.  Spock decided that no, his face was not turning green from a heated blush, it was just adrenaline coursing through his veins and that he was having trouble stabilizing it.  Once Jim reached the bathroom floor, Spock had no idea what he was going to do until Jim grabbed one of his legs and he could feel, muted though it was, a combination of amusement and determination.  

     Spock turned his attention back to glaring at the two Orions who were now caught between expressions of confusion and amusement as Jim’s blond head popped out from between Spock’s legs.  Spock looked down as Jim wedged his shoulders through his legs.  Jim looked up when he had managed to get half way out and winked up at Spock.  As Jim began to crawl the rest of the way out, Spock squeezed his legs together in one last effort to halt Jim’s progress.

     He did not get the reaction he was expecting.  First, Jim wiggled and tugged before he sighed, giving up in the face of clenched Vulcan leg muscle.  Jim sat back, propped up on his hands and Spock had the odd feeling that he had captured a young Sehlat who would spring out at any moment, voiding his Vulcan strength.  “We'll go, urk, peacefully.” Jim started before Spock squeezed in response to Jim’s flexing muscles “Damn it Spock let go! I said, we'll go, urk, peacefully. Let go!”  

     Spock stopped squeezing when he felt and heard the sound of a rib pop, followed by the sound of Jim squeaking.  He immediately released his grip in fear that he may have damaged the cadet, and Jim shot forward, out onto his hands and knees with a whoosh of breath.  Both Orion's still had their weapons aimed at Spock and Jim, they seemed to be enjoying the show that Jim was putting on.  

     When Jim had finally caught his breath and rubbed a hand over his ribs, he rose and moved back to stand at Spock’s side, arms raised.  Spock glanced down again and saw the clenched muscles of the human’s jaw and thinned lips.  Jim jutted his jaw out for a fraction of a second before pulling it back and glaring at the Orion in front and said, “We’ll come along, peacefully.  Won’t we Spock?”  

     Spock gave the human a small frown.  He did not want to go peacefully and he most definitely did not want to go at all.  Jim lowered one hand and grabbed the cuff of Spock’s jacket and tugged as he walked forward.  Spock fisted his hand and refused to budge at Jim’s urging.  It wasn’t until Jim looked back and realized no amount of physical force was going to get Spock going.  He considered his options and let go of Spock’s jacket to grab his hand fully and wrap it with his own.  At this intimate embrace, Spock gasped and involuntarily took one step forward.  

     Jim continued to tug at that hand and Spock continued to follow, Jim kept his eyes locked on him.   With his own hand held firmly within the warm, human hand, Spock couldn’t bring himself to look away.  He marveled at how easy it seemed for Jim to project calm and determination, through this embrace, until Jim tripped.  He let go of Spock’s hand and fell forwards onto the janitor.  Spock froze in place, one more time.

     The Orion at the entrance of the bathroom yelled a warning, as the second one lowered his phaser to Jim.  With the second Orion’s phaser lowered, Spock lunged for the phaser, crushing the Orion’s hand against it hard.  The Orion grunted in pain and moved to backhand Spock, but he was too slow.  One quick lash of motion and Spock had engaged a nerve pinch, incapacitating his opponent.  

     While Spock was distracted by the second Orion, Jim leapt off the ground after his fake fall and tackled the first one around the waist, knocking him to the ground.  He managed to land a few punches and a knee to the solar plexus.  What the hell is Orion anatomy, Jim thought furiously.  Where’s the weak spot!?

     The Orion brought his phaser up and Jim landed a quick punch to his face before biting the hand that that held the phaser.  Bleh, taste of Orion, not yummy.  The phaser went skittering across the floor, when the Orion dropped it as he attempted to shake Jim off of his hand. Jim’s foot kicked out and hit something solid, he looked down briefly and for a moment, Jim felt a bit sorry for the poor janitor that he was abusing in this situation.  Sorry bud, he thought.  His head snapped back during his moment of distraction as he was punched in the jaw, “Dude what the fuck, seriously, that hurt!” Jim hissed as stars floated across his vision and his hearing went fuzzy.

     The Orion rolled Jim over and grabbed him by his hair, dragging him a few feet as he tried to reach his phaser.  Jim hooked an arm around the Orion’s elbow and tried to collapse his arm, before he grabbed the weapon.  “Oof,” he said out loud as the Orion’s full weight was dropped on him, he struggled with the sudden dead weight for a moment, until Spock released the grip he had on the Orion’s neck and ripped him off of Jim.  Jim yelped as Spock grabbed his arm and roughly pulled on it, twisting it in his haste to get him off the floor.  Spock didn’t relax his grip on Jim, but continued to pull him up and out of the bathroom.

     Spock ran, with Jim being dragged behind him back through the bar.  They both failed to notice the third, larger Orion lounging in the dark corner across from the bathroom.  His eyes narrowed at the departing pair before he turned his attention back to the bathroom, where his companions had failed to exit.


	9. Recovery

     Together, Spock and Jim dashed through the bar, knocking into other patrons who either ignored them or yelled profanities at their backs.  Jim turned once and tried to apologize, before being yanked back around by Spock.  They ran back to the ship, shouldering people in the corridors out of the way.  Spock pulled his comm out to contact Mr. Kyle and ordered him to prep for immediate take off.  Mr. Kyle sputtered and yelled back, “She’s not ready to take the next leg of this trip, we’ll burn her out!  Mr. Spock, I advise against this, please give me the necessary time to finish repairs!”

     “Rig her up, Mr. Kyle.  I want to leave as soon as we get back to the ship.  Get it in order and get it ready to take off, do what you have to do.”  Spock could hear the harsh and shallow breathing of the cadet behind him.

     The pounding of their feet echoed off the hard plates on the floor of the docking port.  Jim nearly lost what was left of his breath as Spock slammed him into the bulkheads to access the security panel to let them onto the ship.  Jim stared at where they were still connected, Vulcan hand to human wrist, Spock continued to hold him in a tight grip and Jim was beginning to lose feeling in his fingers.

     Jim gave a short grunt, as Spock squeezed a little too hard, causing the bones in his wrist to twist and grind against one another.  Spock’s head twitched at the sound and Jim wasn’t sure if any outside stimulus was completely getting through to the Vulcan.  Jim was all out of breath, funny puns and quips, he just wanted to make sure that they were going to be all right and get somewhere safer than the starbase.  

     Spock’s fingers flew across the security access pad.  When the access hatch finally opened, Jim was yanked into the ship behind Spock and he stumbled over the threshold.  Mr. Kyle came barrelling into the cargo hold from the hatch that led to the engineer compartments and began to yell at Spock, but stopped when he saw the condition of Jim and the Vulcan.  He narrowed his eyes and gazed steadily at Spock before nodding his head and retreating back into engineering.  

     Jim heard large bangs and clanks from Mr. Kyle’s domain before he felt the ship begin to come alive haltingly beneath him.  Where she had been still and quiet, she now began to growl and hum in a sick voice.  Spock still had him by his one wrist.  Jim thought he had forgotten that he had him, until Jim tried to pull his arm away.  

     He heard another snarl and was yanked by his wrist through the cargo hold into the cockpit and slammed into the passenger seat, where Spock shoved Jim’s arms through the harness and secured him.  Spock finally looked up as Jim rubbed the circulation back into his hand.  He continued to stare at Jim with hard, dark eyes until Jim nodded once.  With that brief assurance, Spock broke eye contact and began the process of requesting permission from the starbase to leave and finish final flight preparations.    

 

     It wasn’t until they were far out from the base that Jim finally let out a large huff of a sigh.  He twisted his hands around in his lap, jerking them back as Spock turned sharply towards him.  “Uh, good kitty, kitty.  Nice kitty, kitty,” said Jim holding both his hands up.  

     Spock continued to stare at him before saying, “You require medical attention.”

     “What? No man, I’m good, you should see the other guy.  I’ve been hit before, won’t be the last time I’m hit either.” Jim said, shrugging

     “I did see the other guy and he did not look as bad as you.  Orions are rather thick skinned.”

     Jim gazed at his bruised knuckles and rubbed his hand across his jaw, wincing at the tender spots.  When he pulled his hand away from his lip, there was some blood, but not much.

     “Come along,” said Spock unbuckling his harness.  When he went to unlatch Jim, he found his hands slapped out of the way.  Spock jerked his hands away at the rough contact.

     “Easy there grabby, I got it, I got it.”  Jim said, clicking the release mechanism and standing up on adrenaline filled, shaky legs, “Just lead the way and we’ll sort it out.”  

     Spock had to clasp his hands behind his back in order to keep from aiding Jim through the ship.  He grabbed a rough, grey packing blanket and placed it on the other packing crate that had been next to the shipment of tribbles.  He patted it and motioned for Jim in the universal sign, to get up there.  As Jim climbed up, Spock said “Your receiver and my employer will not be pleased that you have been damaged.  I will have to fill out a damage report.”  Spock leaned forward to study Jim’s face.“I will have to account for every injury.  I have failed in my duty.”

     Jim clasped a hand to Spock’s shoulder, shaking it, and said “Hey, it wasn’t your fault, remember?  You said I should stay with the ship and I didn’t.  That one’s on me and do they have to know?  We can just patch me up, I promise I won’t say anything.”

     “I will also have to account for the bruising on your wrist.  A Vulcan can not lie.”

     “Cannot or will not?  The two aren’t mutually exclusive, you know.  And big deal about the wrist, it’s not like you meant any harm by it.”  Jim said, flexing his hands in front of him, admiring the reddening skin.

     Spock studied the bruised cadet.  “I will return with the dermal regenerator and a damage report.”

     Jim sighed as Spock walked away from him to the galley.  When he returned, he was holding a medical tricorder, PADD and small dermal regenerator.  Spock waved the tricorder over Jim and he frowned every time he saw a reading he didn’t like and typed it into his PADD.

     Once he was done analyzing and classifying each and every one of Jim’s injuries, he set the tricorder and PADD aside to begin to repair the damage done to the young cadet.   

     Jim closed his eyes as Spock worked on his face, cool fingers pressing against his jaw in an attempt to hold him steady under the dermal regenerator, but Jim ducked away swiftly.  “Join Starfleet they said, reach for the stars they said, it’d be fun they said.  Bullshit.  Bones was right, space is disease wrapped in silence and darkness.  But don’t you tell him I said that.  He’ll never let me live that down.”  Jim cracked an eye and glared at Spock.

     “Now you can see why I am currently not interested in joining Starfleet.” Spock murmured quietly, focused on the skin below the regenerator.

     Jim snorted, “Yeah, Bones is kind of scary, but I bet they don’t have a Bones or as much fun in Vulcanfleet.”

     “There is no such thing.” Spock said, moving on to Jim’s wrists.

     “Whatever the equivalent is, I still bet that it’s no fun.”

     “Was fun one of the requirements for your joining Starfleet?” Spock asked, looking up into Jim’s smiling face.

     “One of the requirements?  Buddy, it was THE requirement.  Who wants to do boring things?”  Spock looked up at Jim briefly.  “Okay, maybe you want to do boring things, like zoom around in space getting beat up by Orions.  Maybe Vulcans, fun and logic don’t always go hand in hand. Come on Spock, answer me honestly, if you had a choice, Vulcanfleet or Starfleet?”

     “Since Vulcanfleet does not exist, I cannot choose it and I have already informed you about my decision in regards to joining Starfleet.”  Spock said and checked the progress of the regenerator on Jim’s wrists.

     “All right, but do you at least agree that Vulcanfleet would be the no-fun-fleet?”

     “Jim.” Spock said, glancing up.

     “Yes?”

     “Your conversational skills leave much to be desired.”

     “Ha!  See, no fun.”  Jim was perched at the end of the crate when the adrenaline that had been coursing through him decided to exit his system in a rush.  He slumped forward to rest his cheek against Spock’s shoulder.  Surprised, Spock tolerated the muted contact for a moment, before running his hand softly over Jim’s shoulder and pushing to prop him into an upright position.  Jim let out a tired groan.  Spock moved to turn away from him, but was halted by a hand on his shoulder, pulling at his jacket.  “Hey, I never did get that kiss.” Jim said.

     “As I said, I only did that to-” Spock wasn’t allowed to finish.  Jim snaked a leg out and wrapped it swiftly around one of Spock’s legs, pressing his heel into the back of Spock’s knee and simultaneously pulling on Spock’s jacket, making Spock’s body collapse at the joint and straight into Jim.

     Spock landed harder than he would have intended, but that didn’t seem to bother Jim.  He just continued to wrap both legs around Spock’s waist and hips while pressing his lips against Spock’s.  Jim’s arms wound tightly around Spock’s neck and shoulders, one arm slid up, to shove a warm hand into Spock’s hair, cradling the back of his skull and keeping him pressed hard against him.  

     This time, it was Spock on the surprise defensive.  His arms flailed out to the side in an attempt to balance himself, hands full of equipment, hanging in the air.  He moved his mouth in an attempt to say no or catch his breath, he couldn’t decide, but he had unknowingly invited Jim to invade with his tongue.  Gone was the grinning, teasing cadet, pressed against Spock was a warm inviting body focused entirely on him.  Spock’s hands figured out what to do, microseconds before his brain caught up.  

     The equipment fell from his hands with a clang, it scattered onto the deck as he grabbed at Jim, first gripping his shoulders.  He heard and felt Jim’s muffled sigh of contentment and shiver as Spock became aware that his hands had moved from Jim’s shoulders and were now clutching and threading themselves through that soft blond hair.  Jim continued to use the momentum to pull on Spock.  He followed, until Jim was pressed between him and the crate.  

     Spock felt a surge of joy and desire flare up beneath Jim’s skin.  It leapt at him, cracking through his carefully constructed Vulcan shields, filling his mind with bright shards of happiness, flaring about like tiny solar flares.  Caught by surprise, Spock reflexively bit down and growled.  Jim let out a soft whimper before Spock let go of his lower lip, reminded briefly of the split lip he had just repaired.  He smoothed his tongue over the damaged portion of Jim’s full lips, tasting copper.  

     Spock lifted Jim slightly into his arms, before slamming him back down against the crate.  Jim let out a shocked whuff of air, releasing Spock’s lips completely.  Spock reached back with his hands, to peel Jim’s arms away from his person and press them down on either side of him, against the blanketed surface of the crate.  This wasn’t helping.  Jim shifted slightly underneath him, legs still wrapped tight, his ankles crossed one over the other, locking Spock in place.  

     A small bead of blood formed where Spock had bit down on Jim’s lower lip.  Jim pushed his tongue out to lick it off.  They both watched each other, one with delight and the other with wary caution.  Spock leaned down and whispered into Jim’s ear, “I could easily rip you to pieces.”  Spock dug his nails into Jim’s skin at his wrists to illustrate his point.

     Jim stared at ceiling, before he shuddered at the implied danger and in return, arched into Spock and whispered, “I know.”  Spock could feel the word against the tip of his own ear as Jim’s lips brushed against it.

     Spock leaned back, Jim looked entirely too happy to be in the vulnerable position he was in.  It was not logical.  Spock angled his head slightly to better observe Jim’s reactions.  It was hard to say exactly why, but Jim began to look happier the more Spock studied him.

     “Illogical human.” Spock said, leaning down until his nose met Jim’s.

     “Hot-ass Vulcan.” Jim said, squeezing his legs together.

     Mr. Kyle chose this moment to pop through the hatch to engineering and walked into the cramped cargo hold, a bag of half eaten popcorn in his hands.  He was looking down and grabbed a handful out of the bag, just as he was yelling for Spock.  He stopped mid shout when he noticed the pair on the packing crate. “Oh, excuse me, am I interrupting something?” Mr. Kyle asked shoving the handful of popcorn into his mouth.

     Spock turned at the intrusion and growled. Jim quickly released his legs from around Spock, or he tried to, until Spock reacted swiftly by grabbing hold of his knee and pressing it against him, before Jim could completely right himself.  Jim looked smugly up at the Vulcan, who was now holding one leg and one wrist.

     “Please, please tell me that you did not have me short change the final repair check and takeoff time because you needed a private place to...” Mr. Kyle waved his hand around in the air, his popcorn flying out of the bag he was carrying.

     “Buddy, if we wanted privacy, this isn’t where I would pick.” Jim said.

     “Well, we can be thankful for some mercies.  Want some popcorn?” Mr. Kyle asked, holding out the bag.  “I just replicated it.”

     “Yeah!  I’m starving.”  Jim made to get up, but Spock was still holding him down.  “I’ll be with you in a sec.  You mind?”

     Mr. Kyle snorted and turned around, waving his popcorn bag above his head.  “Take your time.  No sense rushing a possessive Vulcan.”

     “See, even he knows.  Okay now Spock, you can let me up.”

     Spock regarded Jim with that odd predatory look he’d only seen a couple of times.  It was the one that seemed to say, make the wrong move and I might eat you, or make the right move and I might eat you.  Jim couldn’t decide which one was which and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to find out.  He relaxed back onto the hard surface.  “Fine.  What’s happening?”

     “With the Orions at the base?”  Spock asked.

     “Yeah sure, we’ll start with them if it’ll make you more comfortable.”

     “I do not know what else you would want to talk about.”

     Jim wiggled his leg and arm which were still being held by Spock.  “Ah,” Spock said, he released Jim, smoothed his hair back and adjusted his clothes.  Jim sat up and righted what he could of himself.  “I would still prefer to talk about the Orions.”

     “Fine, did you recognize them?  Did you recognize the name Hunter?”

     “I believe they said The Hunter and yes and no about recognizing them.  I have never seen them before until today.  I briefly caught a glimpse of them as I was searching for you on the Starbase.”  Here, he frowned again at Jim.

     “I’m sorry.  I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

     “It probably would not have been, but I did not share the real reason why I wanted you to stay on the ship.” Spock said, looking just the tiniest bit guilty.

     “Are you saying you had a reason, but you were just like, Jim, stay?  You don’t think I could have handled...ugh, Spock, it’s called communication.  It’s where you use your words to communicate an idea and I know for a fact you have one hell of a vocabulary.  You have to do that, especially with me, if you want me to do something I don’t want to do!” Jim said, scooting back from Spock and curving his hands to his chest and tapping them against his sternum.

     “That is probably the second most illogical thing you have said to me.”

     “Really, what was the first?”

     “Jim.”

     “Alright, alright.” Jim said, holding both of his hands up.

     “What are you carrying that the Orions would be interested in taking?” Spock asked.

     Jim shook his head and crossed his arms, “Uh uh.  The less you know, the less they can use it against you or me.”  

     “It is something you picked up at Vulcan, is it not?”

     “Let’s just say Vulcan was my second stop.  I’ve probably been carrying what they want from the beginning.”

     “And that would be what exactly?” Spock asked, completely confused now.

     “Me.  Wow I feel like a broken holo recording.”

     Spock looked at him dubiously, “You seem quite sure of your self-importance. “

     “Okay, all right, part of it’s me and part of it’s what I’m carrying, like they said.”

     “Why are you, as a separate entity from what you carry, special enough for the Orions to want?”

     “You don’t really know who I am, do you?” Jim asked.  He wished he didn’t have to explain who he was to Spock, this was going to be so embarrassing.

     “I could say the same thing to you.”

     “Hmmm.  Well, be that as it may, Vulcan stranger.  As I said, the less you know the better, except they’re gonna come after you as well.”

     “Indeed they are.  I can make an assumption of why they would want me.”

     “Why would they be interested in a grubby little Vulcan?” Jim asked with a smile on his face.

     Spock raised an eyebrow.  “Why would they be interested in a foolish young cadet?”

     “T _ouché_.”

     “You do realize I can look you up in the database?”

     “Go ahead,” said Jim waving his hand in the air.  “Let me know what you find.”

     Spock gave a small nod and turned towards one of the terminals.  “Computer,” he said, “Request information on-,” Spock paused and looked at Jim, expectantly.  

     Jim inhaled through his nose, “James Tiberius Kirk.”

     Both of Spock’s eyebrows flew up to the top of his head.  “James Tiberius Kirk,” he mouthed the words silently, much to Jim’s amusement.  “Your identification only listed you as J.T. Kirk, and your false identification listed you as Jim Smith.”

     Jim grinned and shrugged his shoulders, “What can I say, my name’s a mouthful.”

     The computer began to spit out the information.

     Here, Spock paused the computer, much to Jim’s relief.  Maybe this would be all he needed to know.  

     “I am aware of only one Ret. Admiral Kirk.  I am also aware of his son’s reputation.”

     Jim narrowed his eyes at Spock, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

     “I now recall why your likeness seemed familiar.  Your image is on quite a number of Starfleet Recruitment posters.  I have seen many defaced in several Starbases.  I do not recommend a moustache.  The spectacles are aesthetically pleasing though, I would not have guessed.”

     Jim laughed at this, “I’ll keep that in mind.  I hated doing the photoshoots for those.”

     “Then why did you allow them to photograph you and use your likeness?”

     “I don’t know.  Didn’t seem to have a choice.” Jim said, looking directly at Spock.  “You ever not have a choice?”

     “Once.” said Spock.  To Jim’s horror, Spock pressed the button to undo the pause he had put the computer on.  The pleasant digital voice came back on and rattled off several more pertinent facts in his file, including:

_Colonist, 2246, Tarsus IV._

_Current residence: Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, United States, Earth._

     Jim lept forward and hit the pause button hard on the computer console.

     “That’s enough.  You don’t see me prying into your affairs.” said Jim through his clenched teeth.

     Spock watched as Jim turned around from the computer panel and flexed his fists against his legs.  “You had said that you had been to two other planets outside of Earth, Vulcan being one of them, and now, using obvious deduction, Tarsus IV was the second one.  I can see now why the Orions would be most interested in your person.  Aside from being the son of one of the most popular and successful Admiral in Starfleet, you are Starfleet’s official poster boy, a witness to one of the most shocking events in planet colonization and carrying an item of supposed importance.”

     Jim remained silent.  He wasn’t discussing this with Spock or anyone at all.  “So?  Computer, identify…” Jim paused and looked at Spock with a hard, expecting look.

     “It is unpronounceable by humans.” Spock said, stalling for time.

     Jim waited quietly.

     “S’chn T’gai Spock.” came the soft deep voice.

    “Seems like we have more in common than you think, that’s a mouthful as well.”

     Jim turned as the computer began to spit out Spock’s information.  

 

     Rather than having to push pause, Spock’s record stopped completely without any outside interference.  He looked up at Spock with some curiosity.  “That’s it?”

     “Vulcan’s are a private people.”

     “Computer, list institutions, higher education or similar places that...say it again?”

     “S’chn T’gai Spock”

     “Is currently enrolled or associated with.” Jim said and waited, but he knew Spock wasn’t enrolled in Starfleet.  He was still on Pike's mission though, and he was going to use every tool available at his disposal until he got the anticipated results of Spock's feet entering the gates of the Academy. 

     The computer paused and spit out it’s answer “There is no record of enrollment or association of S’chn T’gai Spock within this category.”

     “Now, I know you don’t go to Starfleet Academy, that’s an obvious deduction and we both agree that there technically isn’t a ‘Vulcanfleet’ Academy, but as I said before, I know for a fact that there is a whole planet Vulcan and the Vulcan Science Academy that must have been able to provide you with some sort of living, especially if you have an Ambassador for a dad.  Also, with your human mother I’m pretty sure Starfleet and planet Earth were options as well.”

     “What is your point Jim?”

     “Why are you not in either?”  Jim came back to the crate and leaned a hip against it.  

     “This is something that you still need to know?” Spock approached Jim, who had to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact.

     “No, to be honest, it’s just something I’d like to know.  I’d like to know why there’s this incredible being floating around in a little dinghy in space!” Jim waved his hands up and down Spock's outline.

     Spock remained silent as he considered what the cadet was asking.  Apparently he was taking too much time to consider because Jim rolled his eyes, made a small huffing sound and pushed off the crate.  “Never mind,” he said, “forget it.”

     Spock stopped him by saying, “I remembered a book my Mother used to read to me as a small child, before I grew too old for that type of reading material.  I can remember the words as she read them.  ‘Oh the things you can find, if you don’t stay behind.’” Spock looked to Jim.

     Jim nodded thoughtfully, “Dr. Seuss.  Smart man.  An even smarter mother.  I like her already.”  

     “While I can not speak for her, I am sure she would say the same thing about you.  Humans tend to use emotions to relate to other individuals.”

     “And you don’t?

     “No.  I am Vulcan.”

     “You’re also Human.”

     “Indeed, which is why I turned down admission into the Vulcan Science and Starfleet Academies.  These can not be the only options open to me as choices, just because they are Vulcan or Human.  While my genetic makeup is divided in half, it is not logical that it should divide all of my life.”

     “Now you’re talkin’!” Jim said, pounding his hand on Spock’s shoulder.

     “I have been talking all along Jim, have you not been listening?” Spock looked confused.

     “No, it’s just, I get it now,” Jim waved his hand up and down, indicating Spock, “Fuck the system.  I mean, you kind of are projecting it already, although I wouldn’t have expected it to actually be a literal translation of what you’re doing.  But, you are a Vulcan and you do literal translation very well.”  Jim smoothed his hand down the shoulder of Spock’s jacket, “It’s a good look, don’t get me wrong.”  Screw Pike’s plan, Jim was going to see that Spock really did get to make his own choice, lead his own life and not be manipulated into somewhere he didn’t want to go.

     “Now, you are talking, but I do not seem to understand you.”

     Jim swooped in to steal another kiss from a very surprised and confused Vulcan.

     “Cease,” Spock said after the brief peck., but he didn’t move away.

     “Well,” Jim said, pushing himself back up to sit on the crate, he gave Spock a wink, “seeing as you’ve already fucked the system, is there anything else you’d like to f-”

     “Jim.” Spock said, interrupting him and leaning back.  “I apologize for the mixed signals.  But it is my job to see to the safe and complete delivery of the cargo that I carry.  No more and no less.”

     “Spock, I think I’ve also figured out why the Orions are interested in a grubby little Vulcan.  Just to be sure, you are the _only_ Vulcan/Human hybrid known to exist?”

     Spock raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

     “Well then, there’s your unique genetic makeup,” Jim began to tick off the counts on his hand while he kicked the crate, “you’re probably, most likely as the Orion said, untouched, you’re the son of a very important Ambassador, you also work for a very elite shipping company, you have access to me, access to certain records and, you have a very sexy ship.”

     “I can agree on the first six items, even though they are mostly personal, but I do not agree on the last one.”

     “This is big Spock, we can’t let them get their hands on you.”

     “I fail to see why my capture would be more detrimental than your own.”

     “They can’t access what I’m carrying.  If they try to, it’ll self-destruct, I think, maybe.  There’s….I’m not going to say anything else about it.”

     “That is wise.” Spock said agreeing.

     “However, they don’t require passcodes and stuff to access you, if you get my drift.  You won’t, at least I don’t think you’ll self-destruct, but there would be nothing I could safely offer that would keep them off of you,” Jim smiled, “I wouldn’t even be able to buy you if you went to the Orion auction blocks.”

     “Are you guys done out there?” yelled Mr. Kyle, “I need to talk to you Mr. Spock, so put that little green man back in your pants so’s I can come back out!”

     “You know,” said Jim, his eyes twinkling up at Spock as he started to growl in the direction of Mr. Kyle, “I’m kinda curious about this little green man he keeps referring to.”

     Spock’s only answer to that kind of nonsense was to snarl and storm away towards the engineering hatch with Jim’s laughter following him.  

 


	10. The Bonus

     “That’s extortion!  You want me to pay you more, because you lost them at a starbase!?  You get your ass back out there and find them!” Admiral Komack yelled into his comm.  “No, No, I’m not going to pay you any more, I might not pay you anything I promised!  You had one job and you failed, now it’s on your ass to get the job done or I’ll let everyone in the syndicate know you’re shit at what you do.”  A crackling came from the comm, followed by a scream of pain.  Komack paused, “Hello?”

     “This is the Hunter,” came a deep, rasping voice, speaking in the Orion language.  “My apologies for the rude customer service my associate provided you, without my permission.  I seek to rectify that.”

     “Good.  Good.  What’s this about more payment?” Komack responded in the Hunter’s language.  Orion was one of the few languages he had retained from his Academy days.  If you wanted to deal dirty, you had to talk dirty.

     “My associate was incorrect.  You do not owe us more to complete this job, we are following them now, we anticipate capture shortly.”

     “You better.  If that boy gets here with that information still in his possession, I’ll make sure you never get another job in this quadrant of space ever again.”

     “Do not think to threaten me….Admiral.  There are ways I can safeguard myself.  I am sure the Federation would be happy to hear the replay of our conversations.  We will finish it as promised for the fee you promised and....the collection of the bonus.”

     Komack stilled at the Hunter’s pause and continuation.  “What did you find?”

     “Let’s just say that the trouble we are experiencing now is not going to cost you extra.”

     “Wha-”

  _-Click-_

     “Damn!” whispered Komack in frustration.  He looked at the comm unit.  The Hunter was deliberately hiding information from him.  He tapped the comm against his chin.  Whatever the Hunter had found, Komack needed to figure it out quickly.  If it was valuable, he needed to charge a finders fee.  No alien bastard, no matter how important was going to screw him over.

     Komack stood up and shoved his chair back.  He got caught on it’s feet and swearing, he picked it up and threw it across his office.  “God dammit!” he grunted.

     An ensign delivering datapads and needing signatures from Admiral Komack, was waiting patiently to be admitted by Clint.  She jumped an inch off of the floor as a loud crash came from the Admiral’s office.  “What-” she began, before Clint cut her off and told her to leave.  He snagged the PADDs from her arms.  “I’ll take care of these and forward everything to you, now out.”  He pushed her bodily from his office and out into the hallway before closing the door and turning back to run towards the Admiral’s office.

     “Clint!  Get in here, now!”

     “Aye, sir.” Clint rushed inside and came to stop and gave a one handed snap salute.  He looked at the chair that had knocked into Komack’s bookcase that had taken out several books and awards.

     “Get me all the information you can find on that stupid shipping company.  What was it?” Komack asked, turning to face Clint.

     “Space Post, sir.”

     “That one.  I want to know everything about the company and who picked up Kirk.  Dismissed.”  Komack said and went to go right his chair.

     “Ah, yes sir.  It’s just, um.”

     “What!?”

     “I need some signatures if you don’t mind.”  Clint gulped as he saw the Admiral’s eye begin to twitch.  “Okay, Space Post first, then signatures, acknowledged.”  Clint shot out of the Admiral’s office to begin his search.  

 

     Cadet Nyota Uhura jumped a little in her seat, near where she was stationed by Pike’s secretary.  She pressed her earpiece harder to her ear and nodded to Martha.  Without saying anything at first, Martha nodded to her.  “If you have those Romulan translations finished, the Captain would like to see them.”  Nyota nodded her head and rose with a PADD in her hands.  

     Martha buzzed the Captain and he answered with a curt, “What?”

     “Cadet Uhura has the translations for you, and your rectal examination is scheduled directly after that at Starfleet Medical.”  Martha cut the connection off as Pike began to swear.  “He’ll see you now.”  Uhura gave Martha a look that was either grossed out or on the verge of trying to hold back a laugh, she couldn’t decide either.  

     Pike’s door slid open and he barked, “Come in!”

     Uhura walked through, ponytail swinging, head held high and stood at attention, studying the Captain as he studied the skyline of the city behind him.  Pike turned to profile and asked in a softer tone, “What did you find?”

     “More like heard.  The tap Martha and I put on Komack’s devices has activated every time he’s made a call.  There’s a slight delay, but just now, he was talking to someone about paying money for an errand and then a second male came on, speaking in Orion, apologizing for-” Uhura stopped as Pike’s door opened again, this time Martha walked in, locking the door behind her.  She leaned against the wall by the door, and motioned for Uhura to continue.

     “Who’s in charge here anyway?” Pike mumbled as he returned to his chair behind his desk.  He motioned to the chairs across his desk.  “Uhura, if you will, and you know where you can park it Martha.”

     “The same place you can stick it, honey.” said Martha smiling at her boss.

     “Tell me Miss Uhura, you got any friends looking for a job?”

     “I’d say I wouldn’t mind considering the position for myself, but I wouldn’t want to deprive Martha of what she does best.”

     “And what’s that?” asked Pike, “Because I’d like to know.”

     “Captain wrangling.”

     Martha smiled and Pike let out a quick bark of laughter, “All right, let’s get this going.  What else Uhura?”

     Uhura continued, “Komack was talking to two male Orions.  The first one gave no name and demanded extra money.  Apparently they bungled the job and he was asking for more payment for the trouble.  Komack argued with him briefly before a second Orion male interrupted the first.  He identified himself as the Hunter.”  Martha immediately began a search on her PADD.  “The second conversation was in Orion.  Komack asked about payment, to which this Orion said that there would be no need and that they were in pursuit again.”  Pike blew out a breath and dropped his head into his hands.

     “They haven’t been caught yet.  Good boy.” he said, looking over to Martha who was still browsing through data.

     “Sir, it sounds like while they missed the capture at a Starbase, they anticipate capture shortly.”

     “Damn.  Blast, hell and damnation of all hell.  They’re in open space.  They’re going to risk a capture in open space, which means they plan on taking over the shipping company’s craft in a hostile manner.”  Pike’s face fell as he studied Uhura sitting across from him, she looked sadly back at him.

     “Sir, I don’t completely understand what’s going on.”

     “Let’s keep it that way.  Just do the translations when we need you to do them.  What else.”

     “There were threats passed between Komack and the Hunter.  Komack threatened him with ruining his reputation and according to the Hunter, he’s recording all conversations and is holding Komack in check with this.  Sir, are we recording any of Admiral Komack’s conversations?”

     Pike stared back at the cadet.  “Just translate Uhura.  Anything else?”

     “This is what I find strange Captain.  Orions are very savvy and manipulative when it comes to a bargain.  They’re worse or better at it than Ferengis.  They’re having trouble with this capture and they’re not charging Komack any extra.”

     “Speculation?” asked Pike.

     “The Hunter mentioned something called a bonus, which seemed to forgive Komack for additional costs.”  Uhura paused as Martha looked up quickly from her PADD and made eye contact with Pike.  “You know what the bonus is, don’t you?”  She only received a poker straight face from the captain.

     “Komack doesn’t know what the bonus is?  The Hunter didn’t say?”  Pike asked, releasing another breath.  “Rectal exam right after this, right Martha?”  

     Uhura’s lips thinned at this remark.  “Komack’s not stupid.”  At this, Pike glanced up at her.  

     “I didn’t say he was.”

     “No, but you’re missing something.  He’s stupid when it comes to doing the smart thing, we see it all the time in the orders he gives,” she waved her hand at Pike when he began to open his mouth, “but he’s not dumb when it comes to protecting his own skin.  Which means, if he doesn’t know why the Hunter isn’t charging him any more money and he doesn’t know what this mysterious bonus is, you can bet he’s going to find out and find out soon.  That’s how Komack works.”

     “Aha!” said Martha, interrupting the moment.  

     “What’d you find?”

     “Broke through Starfleet security for this.  Kirk was right, cyber security is a joke at Starfleet.  The Hunter is a known Orion Syndicate associate.  He is charged with several dozen counts of kidnapping, and kidnapping with intent to sell.  On his own, he specializes in rare flesh, so to speak.  The harder the target the more he earns in a ‘finder’s fee’ at auction. He’s also available for personal hire.”

     “Excuse me, did you say Kirk?  As in Ret. Admiral Kirk or his son Jim Kirk?”  Silence came from both Martha and Pike.  “You can’t mean the senior Kirk, you must mean Jim.  Jim’s been MIA on campus for days now, which is unusual.  None of his friends have been able to reach him via comm, it just goes straight to voicemail.”  Pike and Martha continued to stare at her, so she continued with her deductions.  “The Hunter is in the middle of capturing someone for Komack.  Komack hates the Kirk’s and Jim’s missing.”  Pike shifted silently in his seat and Uhura had all the information she needed from him in that twitch of body language.  “Ah.  You sent him somewhere he’s not supposed to be and now you’re having problems with getting him back in once piece, and as I said before, you know who the ‘bonus’ is.  I’m guessing it has something to do with your rectal examination.”  Martha hid her laugh behind her cough as Pike glared at her when she tried to hide her face.  Pike turned his cold glare on Uhura who only smiled, “Communications and Linguistics.  You blink and I can read you.”

     “Martha, assume that Komack knows the identity of the bonus.”  

     Martha frowned up at Pike, “You can’t be serious.”

     “Like Uhura said, Komack protects himself.  So expect the worst, hope for the best, which means I need to leave.  See what you can get from his little slimeball of a secretary.  Komack has that man on a tight leash, if Komack hasn’t figured out who the bonus is at this very minute, he’s going to stick his dog on the trail and will know soon.  Anticipate.  Uhura, come with me to my appointment.”

     “Yes sir, I’ve never witnessed a rectal examination before.”

     “You better watch it Martha, looks like your job is on the line.” Pike said, smiling fondly at her.

     “You’re small beans for this one.  Pair her up with you know who, when he gets back.  If she can handle you, she can handle him.”

     Uhura looked interested, “We haven’t had much crossover class or lab work, I hear he’s interesting to work with.  One of those guys that comes at a problem from every angle and then some.”

     “He’s a nice kid, all bark, no bite.  If he gets back because I haven’t sent him and the ‘bonus’ into a trap, I’ll see what I can do.  It would be interesting to see the two of you duke it out together on one of the simulators.  I’d pay the Orions good money to see that.”  Pike laughed before he stood up, grabbed his hat and motioned for Uhura to precede him to the door.  He unlocked it and then briskly strode out, Martha followed at a sedate pace.

 

     Uhura had managed to keep still, respectful and silent while standing with Captain Pike in Ambassador Sarek’s office.  The Ambassador had been only momentarily surprised to see Uhura with Pike, if only because he was aware of two visitors to his office, but he was unaware of who Pike’s guest would be.  The Ambassador offered them seats and refreshments.

     When Pike and the Ambassador continued to engage in small talk, Uhura pulled the PADD that she brought with her up and ran a basic search for Ambassador Sarek. She booted up the relevant information regarding the Ambassador’s family and glanced up quickly to smile at Pike, reaching for her own cup of Vulcan tea.  Once she had satisfied her thirst and curiosity, she turned her attention back to her PADD and entered in one more search algorithm.

     The Ambassador’s surprise had turned into curiosity which faded into a controlled facade at Pike’s news regarding what Uhura had translated.  If Uhura was surprised to hear Captain Pike talking about an inside issue with Starfleet Admiralty, she didn’t show it.  If she also hadn’t been as excellent in her field, she would have missed the subtle changes to Ambassador Sarek’s facial expressions and the small glance at the family picture behind him.  

     Uhura’s PADD lit up briefly, when her search was complete.  She swiped over it quickly as both men looked up at the change in illumination to the room.  Pike raised an eyebrow.  She mouthed, “Study group.”

     Pike nodded and turned back to his conversation with the Ambassador.  

     Uhura flicked back to the first page and saw that one S’chn T’gai Spock was currently employed with a very expensive courier company, Space Post.  With that brief line of information, Uhura’s lips pressed together tightly, she cleared and shut her search fields before locking her PADD.  Ambassador Sarek rose gracefully from his chair as Pike concluded their discussion.  “You will let me know of any further developments.” Ambassador Sarek said.

     “Yes, Mr. Ambassador.”

     “Miss Uhura, thank you for your assistance on this matter.”

     She inclined her head and said “It was an honor to help, Mr. Ambassador.”

     Ambassador Sarek raised his hand in the ta’al and bid them to live long and prosper.  

     Uhura returned the ta’al with a traditional response, “Peace and long life.”

     Once outside, Uhura let loose with a torrent of profanity in standard and several other languages, some Terran, some other.  

     Pike turned, “I’m impressed.  Although I personally find that Klingon is extremely satisfying when it comes to venting.”  

     Uhura turned silent and kept her silence until they got to the crosswalk.  She tugged at the skirt of her uniform and looked up at the Captain.  He returned her look.  “You now know who the ‘bonus’ is, don’t you?” He asked.

     “I don’t even understand how he could come to even be in that position.  I mean,” Uhura waved towards the Starfleet Campus and then back to the Vulcan Embassy, “Why isn’t he here or there?”

     “We’re trying to lure him in, that’s why we sent Jim.”  Pike said, looking swiftly around them at the pedestrians.

     Uhura’s eyes widened, “I’d heard...things, about Jim, through the grapevine, but I never thought-”

     “Whoa, no, now hold on, that’s not what I meant.” Pike held his hands up.   “Jim is NOT whoring for Starfleet.”  

     Uhura winced at the terminology. “I’m sorry, it’s just that-”

     “No, no apologies,” Pike cracked a grin, “Though both you and Jim jumped to that same conclusion.  I really need to get the two of you working together, but I digress.  It’s just, that Sarek’s kid has a lot in common with our resident troublemaker.”

     “So you thought a bad influence would be a good influence?  If I were a Vulcan, I’d say that sounds ‘illogical,’ however if I were Vulcan, at this point, I’d also probably say kaiidth.”  Uhura tucked her PADD under her arm and spread her hands out, palms up.

     “Yeah, I’ve already heard a Vulcan say that.”

     “What do you think you know who will do, once he knows about you know who?”

    Pike smiled before frowning, “Ask for a portion of the finders fee, shit his pants, I don’t know.  The bonus is a wildcard and behavior towards that variable is not something I even want to think about predicting.”

     “We can’t let them get their hands on him.” Uhura said, as if she had a stake in the subject.

     “I can’t let them get their hands on either of them, but that’s not something I can control anymore than I can control the rotation of the planets.”

     “Twenty credits says by the time we get back to your office, Komack knows.” Uhura said, looking up at the dull gray sky.

     “I don’t take bets against Martha, or else I’d be poor. I’m not gonna take one with you.” Pike said and the light changed, signalling it was time for Pike and Uhura to get back to HQ.

 

     Clint came barreling through the hallways of Starfleet Headquarters again, this time spilling hot coffee carried by yeoman who cursed his passing.  Panting, he entered his office and saw the closed door to the Admiral's’ office.  He hit the comm button once.  When the Admiral picked up, Clint asked out of breath, “Are you alone?”  

     “What?”

     “Are you alone?” Clint asked again, breathless.

     “Yes, what?”

     “We have a problem.”

     “What do you mean we?  Clint?  Clint!” Komack barked into his comm, before he looked up to see a red faced, sweaty Clint opening and closing his door and locking it.  Clint began to ramble and Komack’s eyes got bigger and bigger as Clint kept going.  

     “I found out who the person is that picked up Kirk.  It was hard, but I managed to get into Space Posts employment records and, sir, sir, we’re about to cause a diplomatic fuck storm of epic proportions.  I can’t even begin to underline the seriousness of the situation.  I cross referenced the pick ups with their employees, which that wasn’t hard to do since they don’t have a lot of live couriers, nobody even has this type of courier, oh my God.”

     “Clint, if you value your career, you’ll get to the point.  Who picked up-”

     “But, they have one half Vulcan, half human courier in their employment.” Clint said eagerly, as if this must have made sense to the Admiral and he wouldn’t have to explain any more.

     “WHO!?” Komack thundered out.

     “Spock.  I can’t pronounce his whole name, but it’s Ambassador Sarek’s son.”

     Komack proceeded to paint his office and the inside of Clint’s ears red with profanity.  This time it was Clint’s eyes turn to bug out of his head.  He tried desperately to remember some of the more colorful phrases for later.

     “Get out, get back to work and if YOU value YOUR life and career, you’ll keep your mouth shut.” Komack whispered harshly to Clint.

     “Aye, sir,” Clint said, giving a sharp salute and back pedaling till he reached the door and palmed the lock open to let himself out.  He sat down at his desk and began to wonder if he should start rewriting his resume and looking for jobs off planet.  

     Komack glared at the door as it shut behind Clint.  He took some deep breaths before he lifted his comm and dialed.

     “Marie’s House of Pain and Pleasure, how may we serve you?”

     “It’s me.  I need to talk to the Hunter, now.”

     “We live to serve.”  The line went dead.

 

     Pike was glad that he hadn’t taken the bet with Uhura, because when they got back to his office, an ominous vision of Martha, rising slowly from her desk with her PADD in hand greeted them.  She didn’t even wait for him to open his office and admit them, she herself preceded them both into his office.   “Komack knows who the bonus is,” Pike said, grazing past his bookshelves and Martha to get behind his desk.

     “I never thought Clint was that sharp, but he can work fast when he needs to,” Martha said.  “He managed to get into the employee records and cross reference pickup schedules.  I picked up his search terms and tried to stop him, but he had gone too far by the time I hacked in.  After that, Komack made a call to a house of ill repute and I just recorded a conversation between Komack and the Hunter, all in Orion.  I was tempted to put it through the universal translator, but the universal translator doesn’t catch double meanings and nuances in its translations.”

     “Uhura, get on that, I want to know everything.” Pike said, drumming his fingers on his desk in anticipation.

     “Yes sir.”  Uhura sat down as Martha drew up the recorded conversation on her PADD and gave Uhura a headset.  Uhura’s lips compressed together, as she pressed the earpiece to her ear as an angry and furious conversation in Orion took place.  She closed her eyes and replayed it again.

     Pike and Martha exchanged glances, Martha chewed on her thumbnail as she watched the cadet listen to the recording a couple of times, before she removed her earpiece and looked up at the Captain and Martha, her brown eyes full of compassion and disappointment.  Martha shut her eyes and sank back into her chair, she knew that look.  It was the same look Pike got on his face when he had to tell an officer’s family they just lost their son or daughter.  Pike recognized the look before Uhura said anything as well.  He turned to look out at the skyline until all Uhura saw was his profile, highlighted by the watery, San Francisco light.

     “I’m sorry,” she started, “The Hunter reports that Kirk and the bonus have been captured.  It was in mid-flight, their ship was destroyed in the process.”

     “That type of vessel has no...had no defense mechanisms other than shields.  Orion slaver ships, ugh,” said Pike, running his hands over his face and through his hair.

     “Whatever Kirk was carrying, it may not have survived the attack or it might be spread over a large portion of space.  They make no mention of finding anything.”

     Martha looked at Pike, “If you can send a ship out to recover the pieces, you may have a chance at intercepting the Orions or salvage something from the attack, perhaps even manage to track them.”  

     Pike shook his head, “I can’t.  This wasn’t sanctioned, this wasn’t supposed to happen.  Uhura, anything else?”

     “Komack is unhappy that they didn’t find whatever it was Kirk was carrying.  He’s pissed, he’s threatening to stop payment, or do a reverse transaction.  Because of this threat, Admiral Komack was able to negotiate a finder’s fee for Spock and he convinced the Hunter to question Kirk about what he was carrying, followed by sending them both to auction.  Komack will also receive a percentage of the auction fees.”

     Pike looked back at her, “They spoke about Kirk and Spock?  There was supposed to be an engineer on board, what happened to him?”

     “They mention nothing about an additional capture, just the two.  It’s possible the engineer went down with the ship.  The Orions never waste a piece of flesh if they can help it.  It’s not in their nature.”

     Pike fiddled with a pen from his desk.  “Thank you Uhura, I believe that will be all for today.  Dismissed.”

     Uhura paused, “Aye, sir.  Please don’t hesitate to call me for any other translations.”  She stood and gave him a salute.  She returned Martha’s earpiece and PADD to the other woman and quietly let herself out.

     “I can’t send a ship out Martha.”

     “I know sir.”

     “I don’t know how to recover either of them.” Pike whispered down at his desk, hopelessness filling his voice and turning it rough, “I don’t.”

     “Your source sir?”

     “Unreliable at best.  I haven’t heard back from them since the first day we spoke.  I can’t even reach them, I’ve tried.  No voicemail, no nothing, just silence.  What the fuck am I going to tell the Kirk’s or Ambassador Sarek?”  Martha began to open her mouth before Pike cut her off, “And don’t feed me that duty crap.  There was no duty here, there were no orders, there was nothing.  I started with nothing and now I have nothing.”  Pike spread his hands out and stared at the empty space above them.

     “You always find a way sir.” Martha said, kindly, trying to bolster his confidence.

     “Do I?  Do I.” Pike went back to staring at the San Francisco sky line, “Go back to work Martha.”

     “Aye, sir.” Martha slowly rose and left Pike’s office, glancing once more to the quiet Captain dressed in Starfleet instructor blacks against the gray outside his office.  His shoulders rose and fell as she exited.  She looked down briefly at his desk as she was letting herself out, her voice hitched in anticipation.  “Captain.”

     “What is it.”

     “You have an incoming call, sir.”

     “What?” Pike spun around and looked where Martha was pointing.  Sure enough, the comm unit that Ambassador Sarek had given to him was lighting up with an unknown number.  “I’ll be damned,” he whispered.  He flicked open the comm, “Hello?”

     “Hey Captain Sexy!” A bright, female voice chirped out.

     Pike let out a short combination of a laugh and cry.  He rubbed his face with his hand again.  “Hello to you too!  God, tell me you have good news.”

     “Oh, I’ll be whatever deity it is that gets you to kneel before me, sugar.  Wait’ll you hear what I have for you!”

     Martha clapped her hand over her mouth as she laughed at Pike’s caller.  She turned as Cadet Uhura came rushing back into Pike’s office and let the cadet pull her PADD out from her surprised fingers.  Pike frowned at what Uhura was doing.  “I need to check something,” she said.  She pulled a small drive from her pocket and uploaded it onto Martha’s PADD, “Hey!” said Martha reaching to take the device from her.

     “Sshh,” said Uhura elbowing her as she turned to protect the device.  “This is a special program I’ve been working on, to filter out filters.”

     “What?” asked Martha, Pike waved her back into his office as he continued his conversation with the Orion on the comm.

     Uhura’s fingers danced delicately over the PADD as she was pushed towards Pike’s desk, her entire focus on what she was doing.

     “Sounds like you have something more exciting going on besides your interest in me, sugar.” The female voice sounded like it was pouting.

     “Sorry,” said Pike, “You have my complete attention, but something walked into my office at the wrong time.”

     “Well, don’t let me distract you.  What’s going on?”

     “I don’t know.”  Pike stared at Martha who just shrugged her shoulders.

     “Yes,” hissed Uhura.  “Yes!  I thought the speech patterns didn’t sound like a male.  It’s not a male.”

     “Cadet, report.” barked Pike.

     “Yes, sir, sorry sir.  It’s just the Hunter, when he was speaking, his speech patterns didn’t sound wholly like how a man speaks.  I had a hunch, so I got my experimental program that filters out filters and it recognized the app being used.  The Hunter, is a woman, not a male.”

     “Oh, she’s smart!” came the chirpy voice from Pike’s comm, “I like her.  Is she single, is she cute?  On a scale of 1-10, what would you rate her?”

     “What?” said Uhura, startled.

     “You called her cadet, I’m going to need a roommate when I get there, can I have her?  I pick her!”

     Uhura stared open mouthed at Pike as he smiled at her and responded to the female on the phone, “Yes, she’s a cadet, yes, she’s single, on a scale of 1-10, she’s an 11 and sure, why not, you two can be roommates!”

     “Hey roomie!” The voice squealed with excitement.


	11. Second Attempt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--HUGE THANK YOU to Flavia for loaning me your name. She is so cool and sweet I adore her art. The character has absolutely nothing to do with who she is, i just borrowed the name. i just felt like you should know that.

     “We have a problem.” Spock said, gazing sternly at the control panels on the small bridge.  He switched monitors and began scanning with the ship’s sensors in a broad pattern, the space around them.

    “That sentence, combined with being in space, is never ever good.  Should I notify Houston?” Jim asked half jokingly.  He put down the PADD he had been reading and rose from his nest on the packing crate.  His reading glasses, again perched on the tip of his nose and his boots off, he leaned over Spock’s shoulder to view the various readouts.

    “We will find no help from Houston.  I have a suspicion that we are being followed.” Spock looked up and became distracted by Jim’s eyewear.

     “A suspicion?  That’s not what I would call a problem, that’s a hunch.”

     Spock gave a small hitch of breath, “It is difficult to confirm, but I have been monitoring the long range sensors since our flight from Starbase 17, and I picked up another intermittent blip.  It could be an error with the equipment, but I picked up something similar on our way there.”

     Jim sighed and removed his reading glasses, “Do you want help with the sensors?”  

     Spock looked at the ship’s controls and scanners and shook his head in the negative.  “The readings are very faint, and intermittent.  As I said,  I am trying to confirm my readings and I have just now recalibrated the ship’s sensors.  We should know shortly.” Spock began to punch in a set of codes, his fingers flying across the console.

     “Are the sensors having trouble because of the distance to the object?”  Jim sat down at the co-pilot’s seat and reached his hands out tentatively over the controls.

     “No, one moment.  It is gone again. Odd.” Spock muttered as he scanned the space around them and found nothing.  “They were close and now-” Spock was cut off as they took a hit.  Jim rocked back and forth.  Spock, immediately punched the buttons to engage his restraint harness and Jim’s, before he began a set of rolling evasive maneuvers.

     “Whoa.  They’re actually firing on us!” Jim exclaimed as he grabbed onto the straps of his harness, his knuckles turning white..

     If Spock were allowed to show emotion, Jim kind of figured that what just flashed behind Spock’s eyes was annoyance at him for stating the obvious, before quickly turning to determination.  Without being asked, Jim reached out and hit the commands to shift power to the aft shields.  Spock nodded in acknowledgement, before flipping the communication channel open to the lone engineer.  “Spock to Mr. Kyle, we have a problem,” began Spock.

     “You don’t say,” the engineer said drily.  “Didn’t think there were this many speed bumps in space.  Urk, easy there sporto, you think I didn’t notice how bad your driving had got?”  

     Jim grinned as Spock frowned and added a wink when Spock directed his frown at him.  

     “What can you give me?” Spock asked, interrupting the engineer.

     They heard Mr. Kyle sigh, a sharp bang came over the comm from his end of the ship.  “Between the problems we had and the problems we have now, with the draw from power to shields, Warp 3, maybe Warp 4 for a few moments.  Anything higher than that and she’ll burn up and fall apart, I won’t be able to hold her together after that.  You never gave me the chance to complete the final repairs.”  

    “Acknowledged.” Spock cut the comm to the engineer, to process what he had told him, before looking at Jim and feeling that niggling emotion of fear again.

     Jim began fiddling with the controls on the panels, trying to identify whoever was firing at them.  Whoever it was, they were either staying out of sensor range, which didn’t make any sense, since they would have to be within sensor range to fire...or they had special cloaking devices.  “Fuck, I bet it’s some stupid cloaking device.” he whispered out loud.

     “Cloaking would indicate Romulan.  I originally thought it might be the Orions we met earlier,” said Spock, “What have we done to irritate Romulans?”

     “We’re a we now?”

     “Jim.”

     “I don’t now, how often did you pretend to be one?” Jim asked.  

     “I never pretended to be one anywhere else.”

     “Then do you think it’s just a random Romulan....space pirate or the Orions?”

     “I do not have enough facts to make that assumption.”

     “Well, who do you think it is then?” Jim asked, exasperated at the drawn out conversation while they were being fired upon.

     “Are you asking me to guess?” Spock’s asked as his arms shook from the ship absorbing another hit.

     “Yes, Spock, guess!”

     Spock’s lips thinned as he was forced to make calculations and assumptions based on little to no facts.  “It is plausible, that it is the Orions that we met earlier.  No one has ever captured an Orion slaver ship whole before, but it is posited that they possess cloaking capabilities much like the Romulans, but not as refined.  They have also jammed our communications.”

     “What!?”

     “I tried to contact Space Post and it would not go through.  I then attempted to send out a distress signal on all open channels and it was also jammed.  We are without the ability to call for aid.”

     “We’re fucked.” Jim said, gritting his teeth.

     “The hell we are.”

     “Do you want me to try and break through the jamming signal?” Jim asked, his hands reaching for the communications console.

     “Negative, it would be time and power wasted, that we do not have.”  Spock said, as he continued to maneuver their little ship in evasive maneuvers at Warp 2.  Unfortunately, the other ship was more than capable of keeping up with them and had continued to fire.  “I believe they are playing with us, they are not firing at integral parts of the ship.”  They were taking hit after hit, with no way to return fire and no place to go.  Their shields were taking a beating.

     “You know, it would help if you maybe didn’t….ung...take so many hits.” Jim said, breathless from being slammed against his harness.  

     “Do you want to do this?” asked Spock.  He pushed it to Warp 3 and dropped at a severe angle.  

     Jim’s stomach dropped, “Urk, yeah, maybe I do, where did you learn to fly?”

     “Vulcan.”

     “You know the gravity is much different there.”

     “Do not proceed to lecture me on the consequences of gravity.”  Spock made a sharp upward bank, followed by another stomach rolling drop.  

     “I may throw up on you,” Jim said, clenching the straps to his harness even harder.

     “Don’t,”  Spock said, his own throat tightening in response..

     Mr. Kyle finally had enough and hit the internal ship comms.  “You mother fucking, high flying, shit storm of a Vulcan pilot!  How in the hell do you think I’m gonna keep this mother fucking ship’s warp core stable if you’re driving like a son of a bitch!  Do you think this stuff is made out of hard headed Vulcan’s?  No, it’s built out of tin paper and transparent aluminum!” His voice reverberated around the cockpit.  Mr. Kyle ended his rant with another string of choice alien curse words.

     “Whoa,” said Jim, grinning, “I didn’t know he knew that many languages.”  Spock spared a glance for Jim before focusing on what he was doing.  

     “If you want to be useful, then go help Mr. Kyle.”

     “Aye, aye, Cap’n.” said Jim.  Spock steadied the ship and Jim released his harness to make his way back to engineering.  Spock interrupted Mr. Kyle’s rant to let him know that Jim was on the way.

     “What good is your package going to do for me!”Mr. Kyle yelled.

     “Give him something to do, I am sure Starfleet has at least trained him to be useful.”

     “I heard that!” Jim yelled before he ducked into the engineer’s domain.

     “Good,” mumbled Spock.  He returned his attention to the task at hand and all the problems that were coming from them.  The ship vibrated beneath his fingers as he barely kept them from taking some of the hits.  He finally got the sensors recalibrated for cloaking emissions and back on-line.  For one split second, hope entered Spock’s mind, before it was quickly dashed upon rocks.  He was receiving a message via external comms, but it was only from their attacker.

     “This is the Hunter.  We have you in our sights.  You are out gunned and your shields are failing.  Lower your shields and prepare for transport.”

    “No.” Spock replied, he closed the comm and kicked the ship into Warp 4.  The ship shuddered beneath him as the engines chewed themselves up into a new gear.  The pilot controls were kicking back at him, Spock muttered under his breath and nearly crushing them, held steady with his two hands, leaving marks in the metal as he tried to push the little ship through all it was giving him.

     Mr. Kyle came back on the internal comms, cursing at Spock for the sudden speed change.  “You crazy bastard, goddamn you to whatever Vulcan hell you have, for not sending Jim to me earlier, because if you had, maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation!!  What in the ever loving hell do you think you’re doing, you crazy Vulcan!? I told you Warp 4 was all I could give you for a short period of time, we can’t sustain this speed!  We’re draining too much power to the shields and to Warp!  You’re gonna lose speed or something else is going to go, like life support!  Bring it back down to Warp 3!”  Spock continued to ignore Mr. Kyle.

     “Spock,” said Jim over the comms, his voice breathless, “Spock, what are you doing?  She can’t take it at Warp 4, we have nothing left to give you, you’re gonna-” Jim was cut off by the sound of a heavy impact and an alarm sounding.  “Do you hear that!?  The shields are going!  Mr. Kyle, reroute-” Jim was cut off

     Spock froze at the controls, he had to keep going, if he stopped, they’d be caught or destroyed by their pursuer.  Their shields were failing, engines failing, communications were jammed, red was lighting up every inch of the interior of the cockpit and cargo hold.  Spock’s hands shook.  He had never experienced this level of fear from piloting the quiet routes of the shipping channels.

     Spock refocused and opened the internal comms again.  “As we are about to lose power, send Mr. Kirk up front Mr. Kyle, we’re about to be a dead ship.”  

     Mr. Kyle swore again at Spock, but he could be heard over the comms saying, “Jim get your ass back up to the front before the Vulcan does something else stupid.”  Spock closed the comms as he heard the compartment door open to engineering and he kept the ship as steady as he could as Jim made his way back up to the co-pilot’s seat.  

     Spock spared him a glance, his face was pale and sweaty under his bright blond hair and blue eyes.  He turned a panicked look towards Spock before taking up the second set of piloting controls and adding his skill to what Spock was doing.  Surprised at the skillful backup, Spock said nothing, he simply pressed the button activating Jim’s seat harness again.  Spock listened to the two of them breathing as the sounds of the alarms, Mr. Kyle and the pounding they were taking from the other ship soon became all he could hear.  Spock closed his eyes and focused on the breathing and pounding of his own heart, trying to remain calm and process a solution.  

     “We are going to be caught or destroyed in the process,” said Spock quietly.

     “Uh huh,” said Jim, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

     “I did apply for Starfleet.”

    Jim turned wide panicked eyes to him.  

     “You said to tell you something you don’t know,” said Spock through gritted teeth.  “I did apply to Starfleet, but I turned it down.  Also if the theoretical Vulcanfleet existed, it would maintain an atmosphere less enjoyable of the two institutions.

     “Jesus, I forgot you were so literal.  What do we do if we’re captured?” Jim asked quietly.

     “I must see to the safe delivery of all packages in my care, I will not be able to do so if I don’t know what you are carrying that is of such importance.”

     Jim shook his head, “Nuh uh, can’t tell you, it’s classified.  Plus, if I told you, who knows what would happen if they tried to use us against each other.  It’s safer you not knowing.”

     Spock looked forward and concentrated on piloting.  The alarms continued to sound, a soft, feminine voice finally came on.  “Warp core, systems shutting down.  Power failing, engines failing.”

    “Ha, told you your ship was a she.”

     “Mr. Spock!  We’re losing her, the engines can’t take it, they’re burning up, you have to power down!” Mr. Kyle yelled over the comms, overriding the warnings.

     “Switching to impulse power!” yelled Jim, punching in the commands.

     “That’s still not going to hold for long!  She’ll shift to auxilliary power in two minutes!” Mr. Kyle warned, breathlessly.

     “Fuck,” said Jim quietly.

     “Evacuate Mr. Kyle,” Spock said, hitting the comm button for the engineer, “Get up here now.”  Spock heard loud clanging over the comms, before it went dead.  He entered in the codes for autopilot and hit the buttons to release their seat harnesses.  He jumped from his seat and grabbed Jim’s arm, pulling him roughly up.

     “Hey!” squeaked Jim as he was pulled along behind Spock.

     “We’re evacuating, Jim.” Spock placed Jim’s hands on the grips next to the entrance of one of the escape pods.

     “Spock, that’s madness, we’re never going to make it in the escape pods, we’ll be sitting ducks!  The pods have no defense capability!”

     Spock snarled into Jim’s face, “My duty is to the safe delivery of packages I have been assigned to...”

     “Fuck the package and fuck this plan, give me five more minutes with the engines!”

     Mr. Kyle puffed his way up to them, “It’s no good sir, the engines are dying as we speak.”

     The computerized female voice came back on again, “Systems failing, switching to auxiliary in 5, 4, 3…”  She never finished her count down.  One last blast from the Orion ship punched through the engineering deck, knocking everyone about.  

     “Hull breach, hull breach, warning, warning,” the calm computerized voice repeated.

     Jim clutched at the handle that Spock had put his hands on, and reached one hand out to try and grab onto Spock who was flung away from him, back towards the front of the ship.  “Spock!” Instead, he managed to catch Mr. Kyle as he flew into him.  Jim wrapped his arm around the engineer, who clung to his waist.  They leveled out for a split second and Jim’s bare feet touched the cold floor of the craft.  Mr. Kyle pressed the access panel to the pod and Jim shoved him backwards into the single seater pod.

     “Hey!” Mr. Kyle yelled, lunging forward to grab Jim.  

     Jim pushed his hand out of the way and hit the button to close the seal and launch the pod.  Mr. Kyle was forcibly ejected from the ship.  Jim watched the tiny pod recede into the debris littered starry landscape.  

     “Spock,” whispered Jim, he turned around trying to locate him in the flickering red light.  “No,” he said when he finally located Spock, lying at the base of the pilot’s chair.  The ship gave a lurch and rocked into an arc, dumping him and Spock on the ceiling.  Jim rolled, trying to make his way to Spock.  “Spock!” he yelled again, “Spock!” Jim had almost reached him when a bright light surrounded him and a numbing sensation filled his sinus cavity, “OW!” he pinched his nose, feeling dizzy.  He made one last attempt to grab onto Spock and saw that Spock was also enveloped in the same shimmering light of a transporter beam. “We are so fucked,” whispered Jim before all the lights in the galaxy went out.

 

     Jim rolled over, groaning, the floor was hard and cold beneath him.  He had never been so grateful to feel something so simple, and took a moment to thank the universe that they were not in the vacuum of space.  As the rolling brought back the dizziness and numbness, he pinched the bridge of his nose again.  He lay still and tried to hold the floor down as best he could.  He spread eagled, thinking that if he put all his weight out and evenly balanced himself, the world would stop spinning. He fought back roiling nausea and took several deep breaths.

     “Jim,” came a soft voice.  Jim cracked an eye open, it was the most he could do under the circumstances.  He squinted around and saw that they were in a solid room, the floor vibrated under his cheek, they were on a ship!  Another roll of his head placed his hot cheek against the cool of the metal floor, it was dirty and gross, but he could finally see a door.  I am so hacking that bitch open, Jim thought to himself.  

    Spock had opened his eyes, he had been trying to meditate after he located Jim following their arrival via transporter beam to wherever they were.  He couldn’t risk entering a healing trance to repair his own injuries, while Jim had been unconscious.  Technically, Jim was still out of it, but was getting more coherent every second.  His mouth moved silently.  Spock shook his head, “I can not hear you.”

     Jim turned his head again until he saw Spock sitting in the corner of wherever the hell they were, cross-legged with picture perfect posture, and one hell of an olive colored bruise across his cheek.  There was a small gash in the middle of it, green blood had been smeared across to his hairline, where it looked like he had swiped at it.  His hair was also sticking up in different directions.  Jim closed his one good functioning eye and concentrated on getting the second one to open.  He worked his mouth some more until he managed to croak out, “Where are we?”  

    Jim pressed himself up onto all fours and half dragged, half crawled himself as close as he could to Spock before he flopped down, head dizzy and muscles protesting.  “What did they-” he stopped as Spock’s hands closed around his upper arms and pulled him the rest of the way towards him, until Jim could sit next to him and lean against his shoulder.  Jim had a sudden urge to climb into his lap and be comforted like a small child.  “I’ll be fine.” Jim said.  

     Spock murmured “Fine has variable definitions, I would suggest that you are anything but fine.”  He raised his hand to press the back of it against Jim forehead.  “You are hot.”

     Jim pulled away and cracked a grin through his dry, chapped lips, as Spock knew he would, and replied with his normal teasing.  “Don’t you know it.”

     “All joking aside, your temperature is well outside the range for an average healthy human.”

     “Got a lot of human experience, Spocko?”

     “I am half-human, if you can not remember that, then I am equally, if not more so concerned about your health then I was a few moments ago.  Whatever was in the numbing solution that was used during transport, did not have the same effect on me.”

     “Half human, remember, you probably metabolize differently and I'm probably just allergic to it or something.  Hard to tell without Bones and his magical spreadsheet entitled _Things Jim Should Never Even Think About Touching or Ingesting Again or Even Dream About Touching or Ingesting_.”

     “Fascinating,” said Spock, “yet I am sure no qualified Doctor would ever title a document in such a manner.

     “Huh, you don’t know Bones.  When we get to a terminal, I’ll pull it up for you.”

     “You should rest.” Spock said as Jim fought his drooping eyelids.

     “Don’t wanna, don’t know what will happen if I fall asleep again.”

     “I will guard you.” Spock said, tucking Jim more securely against him.

     “I’ve heard that before and I’m not ready to hear it again.  Just...I’m fine.”

    Spock didn’t sigh, but Jim could feel the slight hitch of his body that indicated he was definitely sighing in Jim’s mind.  Spock sighing, it should happen more often.  Jim felt Spock move his fingers along his forehead, slightly brushing the sweaty strands of his hair, before his fingers shifted and resettled along his eyes and jaw.  Jim leaned into the cool pressure before he remembered himself and forced his body to lean away.

     Spock frowned slightly at the small loss of contact.  His fingertips hung in the air for a moment before chasing after Jim and placing them back along the edges of his temple.  “Humans do not have the same constitution or healing abilities of a Vulcan.  I can assist you by initiating a light meld to aid you in finding sleep.  My mind to your mind-”  Already, Spock could feel the tremendous stirring, though tired, and ill, of a brilliant mind.  It was shifting through emotions swiftly, each one as strong and complex as a transwarp equation.  

     Spock hesitated along the periphery before making his presence known.  Jim’s mind immediately leapt up with such joyous force to meet him.  Spock mentally and physically jerked back, startled, ending what should have been something so elementary, an 8 year old Vulcan child could have done it.  Spock stared into Jim’s fever bright eyes and saw them harden before Jim pulled away again, swaying against their corner,  he curled himself inwards and away from Spock.

     “Do that again touch telepath, without my full permission, and tomorrow you will find yourself a grave man.” Jim said, his voice rough with fever and sleep.

     Spock narrowed his eyes at Jim and said “You have an odd tendency to quote from Earth’s classic literature.”

     “And you have an odd tendency as a Vulcan, to touch people.  I said I was fine, I’m fine.  Literally, our ship just got blown up and somehow we didn’t end up in the darkness and silence of the vacuum of space.”  Jim wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep warm, even though Spock said he was already too warm.

     “That is correct.” Spock agreed.

     “Do you know where we are?”  

     “I suspect that we are on the Orion ship that has been tracking us.”

     “Wait,” Jim blinked more sleep out of his eyes, “You knew there was an Orion ship tracking us and you didn’t say anything?”

     “I waited until it was necessary to say something about it.  It became necessary when you asked me to guess who was following us.  I could not assume that the blip was for certain an Orion ship.”

     Jim pinched the bridge of his nose as another wave of nausea hit, “I may throw up on you.”

     “Please don’t.”  Spock said, wrinkling his nose and shifting slightly.

     Jim huffed a laugh out, “You son of a bitch, you knew we were being followed by something and you didn’t say anything until it was too late.  That’s why you didn’t want me to leave the ship at the Starbase.”

     “Correct.”

     “You know, you could have just said, and then maybe we wouldn’t be in this position.”

     “They were determined to capture us, we would have ended up here sooner or later.”

     “Such a defeatist, I would have preferred later.  Preferably with the knowledge that someone knew we needed help.” Jim grumbled out, he extended his legs and studied his bare feet.  Spock grimaced slightly at the sight of how unprotected Jim was and how much it showed how he had failed in his duties.

     “I don’t know what to say, Jim.  I apologize.”  Spock said, still looking at Jim’s feet.

     “It’s just, one likes to be prepared for special occasions, you know.  We’ll get out of here, somehow.  I don’t know how, but we’ll figure it out.  In the meantime, if you don’t mind?  I’m freezing and you’re not.  If you promise not to do the whole mind thing you were fixing to do, I’ll let you hold me.”

     “I have no desire or inclination to hold you.” Spock said, looking confused.

     “Well, if you’re gonna be snippy about it, fine, a guy can take a hint.”  Jim tried to ball himself up as tight as he could, away from Spock.  “I’m just gonna lie here and try not to die.”

     Spock eyed the small, wretched, huddled figure and remembered the time he had accidentally consumed too much chocolate at one of the Earth Ambassador’s parties.  He hadn’t known any better at his young age and the brightly colored ladies and gentlemen kept offering him treats.  By the time his parents had figured out what was wrong with him, aside from a small tinkling of laughter from his Mother and a benevolent glare from his Father, Spock was very miserable indeed.  

     His father explained how ill chocolate would make Vulcans feel, and what he was experiencing was normal for someone his age indulging in an intoxicating substance.  Sarek went back to the Earth Ambassador’s party at his Mother’s urging.  She stayed with him and it was one of the few times in his young childhood, that he let her fully hold him while she rocked and sang to him, as they waited for him to fall into a healing trance.  That ill and that young, it had taken him awhile before he had been able to muster the focus to center himself.  

     “What?” Jim asked, once he cracked an eye open to see Spock staring at him in that predatory way, his head slightly tilted, his eyes strangely focused on him.  “What!?”

     “Come here, Jim.” Spock said, shifting sideways and opening his arms.

     “I am here.”

     “No, you are over there.  Come here.”  Spock motioned with his arms towards himself.

     “I am not a child.” Jim said, glaring at Spock, and if it were even possible, pulled himself in even tighter.

     “No, you are not, but you are still over there and you are acting like a child.  Come here.”

     Jim glared at Spock for another few seconds until a wave of nausea took his concentration again.  He missed it when Spock let out a real sigh this time, before he scooted himself closer to Jim, forcing him to lean into his shoulder and wrapped his arms around him.  Jim closed his eyes against the odd, steadying presence of Spock.  They missed the hiss of the door to their cell opening.

     They both looked up at the sound of footsteps, to see a large Orion male entering their cell.  The Orion stepped forward until he was halfway into the room.  He was followed by two other males who stationed themselves on either side of the doorway.  Rather than pull apart, Spock pulled Jim closer and tried to shift himself in front of Jim.  

     A petite and dainty, well curved older Orion female, with graying red hair and heavy scars on her face and arms entered, after the males.  She looked positively delighted to see them and smiled sweetly down at them.  “Well, well, well, what have we here?  Aren’t you two gorgeous.  You two will fetch a small fortune.”  She clapped her hands in a childish manner and moved closer to the pair sitting in the corner.  She gracefully folded her legs and sat down on the floor in front of them.  She brought out the PADD that she had held under her arm, and began to take notes.  Jim listened as she muttered to herself while she typed in their physical descriptions and the clothing that they were wearing, like she was cataloguing them.  She turned her attention to them, “All right cuties, what is your current height and weight?”

     “That’s kind of personal, don’t you think?” asked Jim.  This got a grin from the dainty lady with scars.

     “Oh honey, if you want personal, I can show you personal.”  She purred.

     Jim gulped, “Ensign, James Tiberius Kirk.”

     “Come now, you can do better than that.  Date of Birth, Height and weight?”

     “Ensign, James T. Kirk.”

     “Yes, yes, I know who you are, I don’t need that information.  We’ll just have to measure you the old fashioned way.  Tierel,” she turned to the large male Orion, “have Savian ready room number 8.”  Tierel left the room silently.  “Now, what about your sexual history?”  She picked up her PADD, again, with a very interested look on her face.

     Jim laughed at this, long and hard, followed by a good set of hiccups.  He looked up at Spock who was practically sneering at the Orion female.

     “Who are you?  Information for information.” Spock said.

     “Fair enough,” she shifted slightly, “I am the one in charge of your capture, delivery and sale at auction”

     “You are in charge?  A female?” Spock asked, surprised.  “Fascinating.”

     “Yes, now, sexual history?  Everything has a price...Spock.”

     “You know who I am already, that does not grant you any more information from me.”

     “You’re in charge of the whole,” Jim waved his hands around, “thing, operation?

     “Yes, now boys, you owe me answers.  Sexual history, don’t make me repeat myself.”

     “I thought the women were just the slaves?”  Jim looked to the men standing behind her.  He finally noticed the blank stares, they hadn’t moved a muscle since entering.

     The woman smiled sweetly at Jim and giggled.  She leaned forward and brushed her fingers along his jaw.  Spock’s arms tightened and pushed her hand away.  “He doesn’t like to be touched.”

     “You could have fooled me, this one looks like he’s enjoyed quite a few touches.  A woman can always tell where another woman has been.” She glanced briefly at Spock before addressing Jim. “Or man.  You think the men run this show?  Honey please, we run the men.”  She looked to the door as Tierel reentered the room.  “Now,” she purred, “Answer me about your past.”  She touched Jim’s face one more time and closed her eyes, concentrating.  Jim’s eyes widened and dilated slightly at the change of pheromones that were suddenly coming through.  He lost the smell of leather and Vulcan that was coming from Spock and something else took it’s place.

     Spock noticed the change in Jim’s heartbeat and the rapid intake of breath at the touch.  He glanced down and saw that Jim was entirely focused on the Orion female, his eyes dilated until there was nothing but a sliver of blue left.  “Ji-” Spock was cut off by the male Orion who had silently approached them both and who now pressed his hand against Spock’s mouth and a heavy hand against his legs.

     “Now,” said the female, “I am called Flavia the Hunter and I need to fill in your auction listing for my catalogue, you will answer my questions.”

     Spock tried to close his ears to this grossly inappropriate and intrusive conversation.  He was certain that this was something Jim would not choose to share unwillingly.  Spock closed his eyes and tried to turn his focus away from Jim’s voice.  He tried to ignore the offending taste and smell of the Orion’s hand pressed disgustingly against his face, to enter some sort of meditative state.  Anything to take him away from this moment and give Jim privacy.  He had just managed to focus and lose himself inside, when he felt Jim’s heart and breathing calm down.  The pressure from the male Orion disappeared. Spock quelled a shudder that tried to run through him.

     “Separate them,” Flavia said, absently.  She rose from her position on the floor and began entering information on her PADD.

     “What, no!” Jim whispered, tightening his grip on Spock.

     “Take that one to meet the girls and get the rest of the information from him.  This one,” she pointed at Spock, “our methods won’t be effective. He remains here and untouched, anyone lays a finger on him and they’ll answer to me.  Kirk, can stay in Room 8.”    

     Jim kicked out at Tierel, who was still pressing down on Spock’s leg.  “Like hell you’ll take me anywhere.” Jim’s foot met Orion skin and bone, but it was as if Tierel felt nothing.  

     Tierel kept his weight on Spock, pressing him hard into the floor.  Spock’s arm came shooting up, fingers pressed into the bend of Tierel’s neck and shoulder.  Before he could get a proper grip, Tierel backhanded Spock across the mouth and punched him hard, in the side of his face, reopening his earlier wound.  Fresh green blood dripped down.    

     “Tsk, now Tierel, what did I say about touching?” asked Flavia, “When you’re done moving them, punishment for you.”  

     “Yes, ma’am.” Tierel said in a dull voice.

     Leaving a stunned Spock alone, he grabbed Jim by the front of his shirt and yanked him forward into the two receiving arms of the other Orions.  Tierel stood up and followed the group out of the cell and closed the door.  Spock heard Jim’s shouts grow fainter with distance, until he was met with silence.  He leaned his head back against the wall and for the first time since the run ins with his childhood tormentors, he felt shame and sadness.  

     Jim continued to yell and fight as best he could, scrabbling back to try and reach for Spock, even though there was no point, the Orions were holding him too tight and he was too weak for any kind of fight.  He tried to orient himself to the turn of the ship's passageways and doors, briefly seeing nameplates and deck levels, but his brain was still scrambled.  Whatever he was reading or counting wasn’t sticking.  They finally marched him to what must be Room 8.

     He was thrown into a dingy, dirty cell, not much bigger than the one he had just been removed from.  This room though, contained a bed full of blankets, pillows and a rug on the floor, that was odd.  There was a sharp odor to the room, causing him to gag at the smell.  Jim held his breath and pinched his nose again, trying to find relief.  The males were still with him, silent and forceful.  

     Flavia soon came in, she was followed by scantily clad, young female Orions.  Flavia’s pheromones had overwhelmed him, but with the combination of hers and the other females, who began to dance and twist across the room in what he was sure was meant to be seductive, it just gave him vertigo.  Jim’s brain and sinuses finally had enough and he threw up all over the horribly patterned rug.  He heard a few squeals from the females as he continued to dry heave.  Once he was done evacuating whatever was left in his stomach, he grinned up at his audience.

     “Hey ladies, Jim Kirk.” He said, before promptly passing out.


	12. Bargains

     Jim breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth.  If this was them trying to break him, well then, he didn’t think it was going well for either party.  After Jim’s little splatter art performance on the nasty ass rug, the females, after their initial shock and disgust had run towards him, cooing and petting at him.  He dry heaved some more and tried to push them back.  When Flavia had gotten tired of the sounds and mess, she made the girls leave the room entirely, and Jim was left to his lonesome, kneeling in a wad on the floor.  Yeah, he would call it a wad, nothing was supporting him and whatever dizziness he had felt after being transported by that wicked foul beam of theirs, it came back tenfold.  

     Flavia began yelling for people to clean up his mess and to leave him alone, which he was entirely too grateful for.  She activated the comm program on her PADD and started yelling into it, to call in some witch doctor of an Orion physician named Savian.  Jim sat back and admired his creative distribution of his guts on her rug.  He thought it improved the design.  

     He jumped as warm hands pressed into his cheek and neck, someone grabbed his hair and lifted his face up.  He blinked into Flavia’s eyes, unable to focus properly.  He tried to say something, but he wasn’t sure if anything came out.

     “Poor little fella.  We can give you medical aid, would you like that?” Flavia asked, cooing over him.  She turned his head to look at the new male who had come into the room.  “That’s Savian, he can help you if you like.”

     Jim squinted at her, not sure about her angle or the cooing and he was certainly not sure if he should accept medical help from an Orion witch doctor.  Bones would have his head.  Flavia continued on in the face of his distracted silence. “Aside from collecting your biological data to add to our auction catalogue, there’s something else I need from you.”

     Jim shrugged his shoulders, it was all the effort he had the energy for.

     “You were carrying something from the Vulcan Science Academy, we’d like to take possession of it.”

     “Is that all?” asked Jim coughing.

     “Do you have it?” Flavia let go of his hair and gave a small clap before holding her hand out, “Give it to me!”  Her eyes lit up as she watched Jim lean back and reach into his pocket.  He brought his closed hand out and turned it over, slowly raising his middle finger.

     Jim glared at her, “Fuck off.”  Flavia turned to the witch doctor and nodded.  Jim yelped as a hypospray was punched into his neck hard.  Liquid fire spread from the location, he raised his hand to rub briskly at the spot.  

     “Bones...is gonna kill you for that.  Hnnng!  Whoa.” Jim took a breath, his nausea disappeared and his head began to clear.  “Fuck you, that feels so much better.”

     “Excellent.” Flavia said softly, before raising her voice, “Girls, girls!  You may re-enter.”

     “Oh hell no! No, no no!” Jim yelled beginning to panic.  Whatever it was that the witch doctor had given him, his senses weren’t as overwhelmed anymore and he was all out of vomit.  This time, whatever pheromones they were releasing into the air, they were beginning to smell good to him.  He could feel his own body tightening in reaction.  Dear body, he thought, of all the times to get it wrong, you pick this moment.

     “If you tell me where the item we are looking for is, I will ask the girls to leave you alone.  If you don’t tell me where it is...well, I’m sure you can guess.  No human can resist us.”

     Jim figured it wouldn’t hurt.  “It was in my travel case on the ship that you blew up.”

     Flavia smiled fondly at him and waved the girls closer to Jim, their proximity causing his mind to go all fuzzy.  “No, I’m afraid that’s not the answer.  We didn’t destroy your ship and we have salvaged all items of value on board.  We did find this,” she held up the data disc that T’Pau had given him.

     “That’s it then, good job, you found it.  Now call off your dogs.”

     “Such innocence to think we wouldn’t try to access it.  There’s nothing on it but solar flare data.  Here.” Flavia gave the disc to Tierel.  “Destroy it.”

     “Such ignorance if you think you could actually access it.”  

     “Arrogance is indeed the bane of youth.”  Flavia said and gripped a chunk of his hair again and shook his head roughly, “Tell me how to access it.”

     “I wish I could, but I can’t.  They didn’t show me how.  So blah blah blah.  Parade your stupid girls all you like, waste their dancing on me, I can’t access it for you.  How dumb do you think Vulcans are.  As you said, I’m young, you think they’ll just give me important shit and then tell me how to access it?  No you idiot, I’m just a mule.  EE-yaw!”  Jim openly laughed in her face, which he belatedly realize he shouldn’t have done.

     Flavia released Jim’s hair and slowly rose from her kneeling position, she smiled down once more at him, sweetly, before hissing, “Since you are nothing but a stupid farm animal found on a backwater planet, then you won’t mind if we treat you like one!  Tierel, put him on the wall!”  Flavia strode over to the flat wall and hit a round plate, the panels lifted and a wall of restraints was revealed.  

     “Oh hell no,” Jim said and he tried to make a break for the door to the cell.  He didn’t get very far, Tierel intercepted him and wrapped his large hand around Jim’s throat and lifted him up and onto his toes.  Jim made a desperate humming sound as he wrapped his fingers around Tierel’s wrist and fingers, trying to pry him off.  The two other males stepped forward and grabbed his arms, pulling them from Tierel, who marched him backwards.  

     Jim’s bare feet dragged along the floor by his toes, he kicked once, but that meant he was left suspended uncomfortably by Tierel and the other males, closing his windpipe even further.  He pressed his legs down one more time, trying to find purchase along the ugly ass rug, until he was slammed back against the wall.  This time all the air was cut off as Tierel held him.  His legs felt heavy, his arms felt heavy, he needed to take that most desperate breath of air.  

     By the time they finally let him have it, he was secured tight, against the wall, gasping for air, trying to swallow it past his abused windpipe.  As soon as he could focus, he opened one eye and proceeded to glare at Flavia’s retreating back.  Tierel and the other males released their final hold on him and followed behind her.  The females were still standing around, watching the spectacle.  One gave him a small smile and wink.  Flavia let the men pass through the door before her.  “Girls.”  The females turned in response to Flavias voice and awaited her instructions.  “Make him bleed, from the wanting of it.”  Flavia snapped her fingers and exited the room.  

     The girls proceeded to slowly approach him and dance.  Jim looked anywhere he could but at them, straining against where he had been secured to the wall.  He bit down on his lip, drawing blood, until one of the girl’s pressed her hand to his face, her pheromones filling the air.  They kept dancing and twirling, taunting him for what felt like ages, time slipped away from Jim and before long, the screaming began.  

 

     Flavia stalked down the hallway, when a call came through on her comm.  It was Marie’s House of Pain.  “What!?” she snapped into the comm, shoving her PADD at Tierel, “Take that to the auctioneer.  Have him enter in the information.”  Tierel, took the PADD and walked away, the other two males silently still following her.  “I said what, Marie, and don’t tell me that fucking Admiral is calling me again.  He’s worse than a Ceti Eel.  Fine, fine, I’ll call him back.  We have things to discuss.”  Flavia stopped in the hallway and opened an app on her comm unit before dialing Komack.

     Flavia spoke into her comm, the voice that came out through her app was all male, “This is the Hunter.”

     “Did you find anything?” came the heavy breathy voice of Admiral Komack.

     “We found their ship and have taken them on board.”

     “Status of the ship?”

     Flavia rolled her eyes, all men seemed to care about was their big ships and their...little ships.  “It was destroyed in the...hunt, completely.  They put up a good fight.”

     “Did you find what I was looking for?”

     Flavia held up the disc in her hands, “No.”

     “Listen here you two bit hound, I paid you good money, good clean money to get any sort of document, disc or what have you from that kid.  He was carrying something from Vulcan and I want it!” Komack yelled across the distance.

     Flavia pulled her ear away from her comm and sneered at it, “As I said, the ship was destroyed in the process.  You have my sincere apologies.  We were barely able to retrieve the brat and the bonus.  There was nothing remaining. We scavenged what we could of course, for spare parts.”

     “I am going to stop payment.  No, not only that, I’m going to reverse payment for your fuck up and I’m going to claim the entire sale of that brat and the bonus!  Don’t you think I won’t or I can’t.  You think you’re my only contact?  I’ll get my money back and I’ll pay someone to steal that kid right from under your nose!”

     “I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreeable arrangement that is not entirely based on...emotions.  What would you like?”  Flavia said, gritting her teeth, she was not going to submit to this human, but she had worked hard for her reputation and a paper pushing Starfleet admiral and a couple of brats weren’t going to ruin it today.

     “I want you to question the fuck outta that kid, get everything you can out of him.  I want a finder’s fee for the bonus and 60 percent of the auction fees from each sale.”

     “A finder’s fee for the bonus?  One lowly courier is not worth your time.”

     “It is when you have the only Vulcan/Human hybrid known to the galaxy in your possession.”

     Flavia got quiet, she eyed her comm.  Admiral Komack continued, “Yeah, didn’t think I knew about him did you.  You can’t fuck me, I learned from the best.  You’re gonna make the same mistake Starfleet made.”

     “And what’s that?” Flavia hissed into her comm.

     “Underestimating me.  Now, do we have a deal on what you owe me for your mistake?”

     “Fifteen percent of the auction fees.” Flavia countered.

     “Don’t fuckin’ insult me, do better.”

     “Twenty percent.”

     “Eighty percent.”

     “You’re going the wrong way,” Flavia ground out.

     “You’re being an idiot, thinking to undercut me.”

     “Forty percent.”

     “Fifty percent.”

     Flavia stared at the comm again and gritted her teeth.  “If you don’t stop payment, and I question the boy…”

     “And the hybrid.  Question the hybrid.”

     “Why…”

     “Because he’s from Vulcan, you idiot, he may have noticed what it was that dumb hick was carrying!  Vulcans recognize other Vulcan...things or whatever.  Now, I won’t stop payment if you question the two, pay me a finder’s fee and fifty percent of the auction fees from EACH sale.   I bet that Vulcan’s a virgin as well, don’t make me add on the virgin fee, Hunter.  Now, do we have a deal?”

     “It’s been wonderful doing business with you Admiral.  I look forward to completing our transaction.  Have a good day.”  Flavia hung up the comm and crushed it in her hands.  She stopped in her tracks and made an about face.  She met Tierel on his way back with her PADD.  “Open the Vulcan’s cell.”

 

     Spock came out of his meditative trance at the sound of the cell door opening.  The same Orion boss lady came through, followed by the three males.  He looked past them into the corridor.  “Where is Jim?” he asked, unfolding himself to gracefully stand up.

    “He’s busy, we won’t bother him yet.  You on the other hand, we have come to bother.” said Flavia.  She walked to stand halfway into the cell, tucked her PADD under her arm and bounced a data disc up and down in her hands, before sticking it down her top.

     Spock raised one eyebrow and waited with all the patience Vulcans seem to be born with.  Flavia looked back to the two males stationed on either side of the doors and nodded to them.  One of them moved his hand and closed the door.  “Now, I’m going to ask some questions,” started Flavia.

     “I am in charge of seeing to the safe delivery and care of all packages assigned to me for the duration of their delivery.  You will bring Jim back to this cell, now.”

     Flavia continued as if she hadn’t heard him, “You’re going to answer the questions I have for you.  If you don’t, we will not handle your ‘package’ with care and it will become damaged and your reputation will become damaged as well.”  

     “I have no guarantee that you are currently not damaging, or that you will not damage the package, regardless of the answers I give you.  In exchange for these answers, you will deliver Jim back to this cell first.”

     Flavia moved slowly and seductively towards him and bared her teeth, “I will damage every pretty inch on his pretty head, if someone else attempts to bargain with me today.”

    “It is not a bargain.  Think of it as an exchange.” Spock said evenly.

    “What was he transporting?” Flavia asked softly.

     “I do not believe we came to an agreement regarding the details of the exchange.  Also, I am not at liberty to divulge the contents of anything that I am transporting to any party other than the original contractor and receiver.  I highly doubt that you are either.” Spock said, looking down his Vulcan nose at her.

     Flavia’s seductive appeal slowly and purposefully fell away at Spock’s drawn out statement, before all that was left standing before him, was an old, scarred and haggard looking Orion female.  He gazed quizzically at her as she marched up to him and struck him hard across the face.  “WHAT DID HE CARRY!!!” she screamed into his sensitive ears.  Spock clapped his hands over them as swiftly as he could.  “TIEREL!” Flavia shrieked.  Tierel came out of his stupor and moved forward, taking hold of both of Spock’s hands in a crushing grip.  Spock gasped at the disgusting, forceful intimacy and snarled up at Tierel.  He snapped his teeth up to Tierel’s neck, almost making it, to tear Tierel’s throat out, but Flavia grabbed a hank of his hair and yanked him back.  “WHAT IS THAT LITTLE BITCH OF A BOY CARRYING FROM VULCAN!” She screamed in his ears again.

     Spock continued to snarl and managed to catch a piece of Flavia’s forearm with his teeth.  He bit down hard and sharp.  He would be proud to leave his teeth marks upon her skin like her other scars, to show that she had messed with a male Vulcan and had not left the encounter unscathed.  She hissed and shook his head violently before dropping her PADD to punch him under his ribs, where his heart lay.  

     Tierel squeezed his hands even harder and he gasped, releasing her and tried to take in a breath.  “Exchange,” he whispered and stomped on her PADD, cracking the entire casing.  Tierel yanked him away from the broken bits and Flavia let out an animal howl, and punched him one last time in frustration.  She screamed to the males at the door who hit the access panels at her order.

    “Open it!  Open it.  Go get that little bitch, bring him here!  You want an exchange, you’ll get an exchange.  Blood for blood, bone for bone!  One of you will talk!”  Flavia stepped back, away from Spock and picked up the broken bits of her PADD.  She motioned to Tierel, who finally released Spock.  Tierel lifted his foot, and slammed Spock square in the chest with it and into the wall.  Spock’s breath left him and he gagged on his distraught lungs.

     “What is making that awful noise?” Flavia asked.  She ran out of the door and down the hall, yelling at the males to close the door and for Tierel to follow her.

     Spock looked up from the floor, clutching his abused torso.  He could hear the screaming as well.  “Jim.”

 

     Jim woke to the sound of someone screaming at him, around him, wherever, it was too much noise to follow and then something hard was slapping across his face, “You are completely useless!  Who sends a fragile human on a fool’s errand to Vulcan!  Those admirals at Starfleet are dumber than I imagined.  Gross!  Clean up this mess!  Why didn’t you get me sooner!  I said make him bleed with wanting, not make him bleed from internal hemorrhaging.  That’s blood in his vomit, not on his body!  Idiots, get out!  GET.  OUT!  What the fuck is wrong with him?  Where the fuck is Savian!”  Flavia was growling and yelling in alternate tones.  

     So far this job wasn’t worth what she was being paid for it.  She had half a mind to sell them off to another slaver, her reputation be damned.  Whoever ended up with this pair of fools deserved them and would understand why she had given them up without an argument.  Her other half a mind was focused on how rare a find they were and that the profit margin would be outstanding for her as long as she kept the full records of what the auctions brought in from that stupid fat admiral.   “Where’s Savian?” Flavia asked again, “Everyone on board this ship is incompetent?  How can you not handle two captives!

     “Here, mistress.” Savian answered, entering the room on soft feet.

     “What the fuck is wrong with him?” Flavia demanded, pointing the broken end of her PADD at the human.

     Jim felt someone peel up an eyelid, it felt like sandpaper against hot sandpaper.  “Are we still on Vulcan, Bones?  Did I wake Tevvie and Nevvie again?  I’d apologize, but Vulcans find apology illogical.  Did anyone tell Vulcans that they’re illogical for being so logical?  When I get back to Spock, I’m gonna tell him I said that about Vulcans.  I don’t feel so good.”  Jim rambled in his delirium.  “Bones?” Jim asked again, reaching his hand out, “Bones?”  His skin was pinched and pressed and he heard the whirring of something close by.  He hissed at the feel of another hypospray press and release into his neck, this time, the burn didn’t make him feel better, if anything, it made everything worse.  “Thop, Boneth,” Jim said as he tried to strain up for air, but nothing was working properly and he began to panic.  Bones had never dosed him wrong before.

     “What’s happening?  What did you do!  They have to be kept alive until auction, fool!”

     “It appears he is having a human’s allergic reaction to the injections.”

     “Fix it!” Flavia yelled in exasperation.  The situation was going from bad to worse.

     Jim’s breathing became more labored, he tried to claw at his shirt and throat, to let in more air, but there was none to be had and he couldn’t move his arms anyways.  Where were his hands he wondered.  

    “Tierel, release him from the wall, quickly!” Flavia was still giving orders, “Savian, you better have something to fix him with.”  Jim fell to the floor with an ungraceful thump, he was surprised he didn’t break anything, he was beginning to dislike gravity.

     “Aye, mistress, just let me do one quick, ah….there we go.”  Jim felt another press of the dreaded hypospray and let out a soft keening sound.  Whoever Savian was, shushed him and pressed his fingers against the spot that had been abused three different times...today, tomorrow, yesterday?  Jim wasn’t sure how much time had passed.  “That should do it mistress, I can feel his intake of air is much stronger.”  Sure enough, Jim laid there, sucking in air like a lamprey.

     “Is everyone on board this ship completely useless?  Move over.”  Jim felt Flavia’s warm hands on him again and he tried to tuck his face back away, curling into himself.  “Tsk.  Those fucking admirals, to send a baby on a man’s errand.  Put him back with the other one.  He’s in no danger of escape and the other one won’t let him do anything stupid.  This kid is still considered a ‘package’ to him.”

     Jim latched onto the last words that Flavia had said.  They were going to take him back to Spock.  Oh thank god, thank god.  Wait, what, he thought.  Admirals?  Admirals at Starfleet.  He tried to open his mouth to speak, to be heard, to ask a million questions, but he was suddenly shifted vertical and oh wow, that really didn’t feel very good.  He dry heaved again, there was nothing left for him to let go.  Black spots filled his vision, he looked at Flavia, her face was contorted in anger as she glared at him before she turned to the girl’s and pulled the belt off from around Tierel’s waist and began beating them with it.  Jim closed his eyes to the sound of leather on flesh and female screams.  

     “Enough,” he whispered, “Enough.  They did as you told them to.  Leave them alone!”  Jim yelped as the belt was turned on him, his thighs took a few whacks as Flavia screamed for the males to remove him and put him in with the half breed.  

     “I hope you enjoy your time together, for it will be the last time anyone treats you with care!  You have one day before I clean you up and sell you to the highest bidder, like the whore you are, and let that half-breed watch as his precious package never reaches it’s destination.”  Flavia struck him a few more times, before stopping.  She smiled at him coldly, breathing heavily, “No, no, I won’t sell you first.  I’ll sell the untouched half-breed first and let you watch as his new master claims him.”  

     “Orion ladies are pretty and nice.  You’re not a very pretty or nice Orion lady.  You give Orion’s a bad name.  I hope they remember how you reflected poorly on them, cuz I’m gonna teeeeelll!” Jim said in a sing song voice.

     Flavia let loose with the belt again, striking both Jim and the Orion males as she yelled at them to take him to Spock’s cell.  The males dragged Jim from the room, still singing, through the halls of the ship.  Flavia ground her teeth and threw the belt at Tierel.


	13. Mindfuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--thanks to Ormondhsacker for the title to this chapter. bless you, i hate/love you.

     Spock stood near the door to his cell, and placed his hands gently on the door, frowning in concentration, desperately listening for any sound after hearing Jim screaming.  Spock growled and hissed, because whatever the doors and cells were made out of, they were soundproof.  He turned from the door and stalked back to the hard pallet that was folded in the corner of the room, slowly kneeling down on it to stare at the door, willing it to open and for any news of Jim.

     When nothing came, he closed his eyes to meditate again, to try and order his thoughts and heal after his encounter with Tierel and Flavia.  The door to his cell suddenly swished open and he was again disturbed from his meditation attempt by that slight sound.  Spock’s eyes widened slightly as something was dumped in with him, it took him a second to identify it.

     “Jim!” Spock whispered harshly.  The cell door closed and Spock was on his feet in  a flash, lunging for the crumpled body on the floor.  His hands at first fluttered over Jim, hesitant before his fingers flew quickly and surely over Jim, searching for a pulse at his neck.  He bowed his head and sighed with relief when he finally found it, faint and erratic, but the cadet was alive.  Spock knelt quietly near Jim, his hands returned to his lap, he had no access to any medical equipment, again that flash of human emotion, worry flared at the back of his mind.  He pushed it down and began to assess the situation.

     Jim was still dressed, which was a relief Spock didn’t even know he was waiting for, but his wrists and bare ankles were a mess of welts and oozing blood.  He had obviously been restrained and must have tried to get out of them, causing the wounds to his person.  “Jim,” Spock said again, reaching out to shake his shoulder, “Are you alright?”  When he got no response, he sat back on his heels before making a decision to move Jim to the pallet.  His hands hovered, hesitating again at the necessary contact and then he halted as Jim finally spoke to him.

    “Do I look all right?  Because I don’t feel all right.  I can’t, I can’t take that again.  I think I’m allergic to Orions.  Who knew?  It closes the doors to so many fun opportunities.  Bones is gonna love that.  I’m going to make sure he carves that on my allergen spreadsheet.  It was too much.  I don’t really know how to deal with this.”  Jim turned his head until Spock could see the that Jim’s once clear, very rare on Vulcan, blue eyes were now weirdly dilated and bloodshot.

     Spock gently smoothed his fingers over Jim’s formerly bright hair, that was now dull and dark with sweat.  “We both have a duty to uphold.”

     Jim mumbled into the floor, “I know.  I know and we can’t even pass go to collect 200 credits”

     “You are being paid for this endeavor?” Spock asked softly, his hand hesitating in Jim’s hair.

     Jim didn’t say anything to this at first, he just looked his annoyance at Spock from his odd looking eyes.  “Yeah, yeah Spock I am.  I’m being paid 200 credits for my own capture and torture.  Jesus.”

     “I am sensing human sarcasm.” Spock said, he continued his soft petting of Jim’s hair.

     “Are you?  Well I’m sensing the end of my abilities to handle this.”

     Spock looked at the woefully ill cadet.  Whatever it was that the Orions had done to him, it had taken it’s toll.  Jim’s skin had lost it’s healthy pink and white coloring and had been replaced with a pale, grey color and there were purple half moon shadows on the delicate skin beneath his eyes.  Jim seemed to be in some sort of perpetual sweat that would indicate an elevated temperature and stress.  If left in such a condition, he would dehydrate quickly, making himself even sicker.

     “They attempted to get information from me about what you were carrying from Vulcan.”  Spock said.  Jim looked at him with one good eye again, before closing it again, it hurt to keep them open for long.  

     “What did you say?”

     “Nothing.  Well, that’s not true.” Spock said.  Jim eyes shot wide open and he looked at Spock with some form of panic.  “SShhh, I meant that I asked them to bring you here if they wanted anything from me.”  

     Jim looked even more panicked, “Shit Spock, what did you tell them!”

     Spock shook his head, “Nothing.  I said that I would exchange information for your return, but Flavia flew into a rage and when the door opened, we heard you.  Screaming.  You were then brought here, without me ever having to say anything.”  Jim relaxed and shifted slightly on the floor before Spock continued.  “I am uncertain, but it would seem that screaming is not the usual response when faced with Orions.”

     Jim chuckled, “It is when you’re allergic to them, remember.  I dunno, the witch doctor gave me something, then they hung me up on the wall and the girls started dancing.  That’s all I remember.”

    “They have marked you in a most unhospitable manner.”  Spock moved to brush against one of Jim’s wounds, but Jim pulled back once more refusing any small contact.  “If I could ease your discomfort, I would.”

     “I think I’ll just take a nap or something, before they remember where they left me and get me again.  After that, we gotta figure out how to get the hell out of here.”

     “As you wish.” Spock got the reaction he was looking for, a soft huff of laughter from the human.

     “That’s still funny, I don’t care who you are.”

     “As you say.”

     “Have you ever busted out of a spaceship mid-space before?  I mean, I break into things all the time, is it the same kind of procedure?” Jim asked.

     “I have never broken in or out of anything before.  Logic would suggest that if you can break into something, you should be able to reverse engineer the procedure to get out.  However, we are not equipped to survive the vacuum of space.” Spock replied, neutrally.  He did not want to discourage Jim into hopelessness, but he did not want to encourage him into foolishness either.

     Jim snorted, he pushed his hands against the floor and sat there for a minute, trying to get the rest of his body to cooperate.  He looked around the small cell and at Spock, so close to him.  

     “Do you require assistance?” Spock asked, watching the struggle.  

     “Nah, I got it.”  Jim grunted and with a heave, got his feet underneath him and stood up to walk over to the pitcher of water that had been left in the cell.  He tried, he really did, but all he managed, was to trip over his own feet, to land heavily on the floor.  “Damn.” Jim said, shaking his head.  

     Spock reached out and grabbed the cadet’s bare arm below the pushed up sleeve of his now filthy cardigan, but above the bruised flesh, in order to offer him assistance.  Jim yanked his arm away as fast as he could, but not before Spock finally felt an upsurge of sexual frustration and desire raging and clawing through Jim’s system.

     “Jim.” he said, shocked by the intensity, he looked from his hand into Jim’s eyes.  “You are definitely not all right.”

     “Hey touch-telepath, stop touching.” Jim grumbled.

     “I do not understand why you would be in possession of such intense feelings.”

     Jim blinked at Spock, “I don’t understand how you don’t remember how Orions work.”

     Here, it was Spock’s turn to blink owlishly at Jim until his brain computed the facts and he spit out a monosyllabic, “Oh.”

     “Bingo,” Jim said, firing two imaginary pistols at him.

     “I had a momentary lapse in memory.” Spock said in a haughty voice.

     “Seriously Spock, are you all right?”

     “Forgive me, but you do not show signs of...enjoyment.”  

     “Well, I didn’t enjoy it.  She did that on purpose, when I wouldn’t talk.” Jim said, getting back up on unsteady legs to make it over to the water pitcher for a drink, before settling back down in a corner far away from Spock.  He stretched his legs out and leaned his head back against the wall.  Spock stood up and approached him, Jim cracked an eye open when he felt the movement.  Keeping that eye open, he watched as Spock slowly lowered himself to a crouching position next to him, he delicately reached out a hand and put it on Jim’s leg.

     “I would help you.”

     Jim huffed out a laugh and scrubbed his hands over his face.  “Spock, look, we’ve gotten a bit hot and heavy, here and there, which to be honest, I’ve enjoyed.  But, this isn’t just something that you can walk up to a person and say hey I’m here to help.”

     “Is it not?” asked Spock.  “I am to see to the safety of my cargo and passengers at all times.”

     “Ugh, enough with the stupid Space Post rules.  I’m a human, not a cardboard box.” Jim said and shoved Spock’s hand off his leg.

     “Exactly, I would not offer this aid to a cardboard box.”

     Jim looked up at the slightly older man, not really a man, but not really a boy either.  He was somewhere lost in between.  Jim couldn’t take advantage of an untouched, Vulcan hybrid that he had been sent to lure home, with how great a choice Starfleet was.  It went against every code of honor he knew.  Speaking of what a great choice Starfleet was, that joke was on him.  He ground his teeth together, when he got out of here he was going to track that punk ass chicken coward, backdoor bastard Admiral down.  Jim closed his eyes and hoped beyond hope that Pike had nothing to do with this.  It would be a couple of days before Pike would become worried when he missed his delivery date.  Until then, they had to figure out how to get the hell out of here before that auction took place.

     “Thanks Spock, I mean it.  I know you want to help and that’s great, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t part of any Vulcan, Starfleet or Space Post safety regulations.”

     “You have yet to tell me why I can not help you...as a...friend.”

     “Because this goes way beyond anything that I would ask a friend to do, and at what point did you start to consider me friend material, rather than shipping material?” Jim asked, cracking a small smile.

     “I believe I can not answer that question, and you have not told me exactly what condition you currently find yourself in that is this unpleasant and intense.  I can only read surface thoughts and emotions without invading your privacy and while they were quite loud  I shielded as swiftly as I could and ceased physical contact, to protect your privacy for you.  I only know so much as I can guess right now.”  Spock said, tapping the side of his skull.  He patiently waited for some sort of explanation that would explain why Jim was literally trying to jump out of his skin.

     Spock continued to blink at Jim, waiting and waiting until finally Jim turned beet red and exploded with,  “I have a boner, Spock!  An Orion induced boner and it hurts, because whatever it is they did to me, it wasn’t my choosing, and I can’t get any relief by myself because of privacy reasons and I’m not going to let them give me any!  Oh my god!” At this, Jim covered his head with his arms and hands and pulled his legs up close to his chest.  “Ow!  I can’t believe I just said that.  What is my life?  Kill me now.  The Orions tortured me with blue balls.”  

     Jim began to shake, but Spock couldn’t tell if that was from laughter or some other strong emotion.  Spock reached both hands out and grasped Jim’s forearms to uncover his face, shielding against the clamouring noise of sexual desire and frustration in that skin on skin contact.  Jim kept his eyes closed and curled in on himself, until Spock spoke.

     “You say that you would not ask help from a friend for...this?” Spock said, firming his grip on Jim’s forearm.

     “Yes, this is NOT something friend’s do.” Jim whispered in a small voice, humiliated beyond belief.  Oh, he was definitely fucking up someone for putting the order in for their capture.  It was one thing to ignore the Golden Whore remarks, and maintain one’s own individuality in the face of such ugly gossip, but to actually be made into one, well, no Kirk ever went easy.  

     “Yet, I have witnessed first hand that it is something humans will do with a complete stranger.” Spock said, interrupting Jim’s inner justice monologue.

     “What?  What source does your human information come from?  What have you been reading?”asked Jim, confused.

     “Mr. Kyle would frequently entertain guests that were complete strangers to him.  He informed me that in the human relationship definitions and parameters, they would be termed one night stands.  Was he in error?”

     “No, not really.  Oh God, Mr. Kyle,” Jim whispered, remembering the pod he ejected.

     “I heard the launch of the pod.  The Orions have not made any mention of its recovery, let us hope that he will be safely recovered.  It is useless to wish for that which can not be, but I can not help but wish that it had been you in the pod.” Spock said, squeezing Jim’s forearm briefly.

     Jim laughed, “Well, considering how obsessed he was with your little green man, he would have loved all of these really green men and women.  Anyways, you know what they say about wishes, if frogs had wings, they’d fly around or something and not bump their asses on the ground.”

     “Jim, that makes no sense.  Frogs are wingless amphibians that never evolved to fly.  They can, however, jump quite a distance.” Spock said, and while he was actually being serious, he was gratified to hear the giggle come out of Jim.

     “Regardless of what Mr. Kyle said Spock, that isn’t what this is, what we are.” Jim said, looking straight and truthfully into Spock’s eyes and held them, no matter the amount embarrassment he was experiencing.  Jim moved to place his hand over Spock’s and remove it, but Spock wouldn’t budge, he just slowly closed his eyes at the contact.  Jim felt that weird zing again and took a moment to puzzle it out, before Spock removed his hand from his own.

     “I am aware of that.  What I do not understand, is that a human would engage in this act with a complete stranger, but you will not allow me to assist you.  We have known each other long enough not to be complete strangers.”

     “Merely strange,” Jim said, knocking his head against the wall.  “I don’t know how to explain various levels of human friendship with you, but one rule is, you don’t take advantage of your friends.”

     “I am also aware of that, and as I am your very first Vulcan friend, it is now my duty to explain to you something that very few outsiders know about, that might help you through this.”  

     “Well, I’m not sure if you are my first Vulcan friend or not, I was on Vulcan.  I met Vulcans and I got to know two of them.  Tevvie and Nevvie, so hah.” Jim shot back.

     “Those are not proper Vulcan names."

     "No, we gave each other nicknames and braided each other's hair and sang songs beside the burning embers of Mount Doom."  Jim fluttered his hands in the air before resting them against his cheeks and blinking swiftly up at Spock.

     "I believe that no Vulcan would agree to enter into those illogical activities with a human and that you mean Mount Seleya."

     "Whatever."

     "Did they share with you the information I am willing to share with you?”

     “It’s true, we didn’t talk much.  Vulcans don’t talk much.  Why do you talk much?” Jim asked, stalling.

     Spock looked with some concern at Jim, “You do realize that you tend to talk in a circuitous manner when you are overspent and overwhelmed, right?”

     Jim only stuck his tongue out at Spock in response.

     “I rest my case,” Spock said.  “Jim, are you interested in how I can help you?”

     Curious, Jim nodded and attempted to focus and listen as Spock explain about a mind meld.  His mind to Jim’s mind, there would be no touching, except where Spock’s fingers met Jim’s meld points along his face.  Spock briefly pointed out the area to Jim.  It would be in this fashion that Spock would provide Jim relief from his so called blue balls and it would literally all be in Jim’s head, “Are they really blue?” Spock asked.

     “Shut up Spock.  So no physical intimate intercourse, you say?” Jim asked warily.

     “None.”

     "Seriously, you have...experience..with this?"

     "I have experience with the theory."  Spock said, correcting Jim, it would not do to go into a meld with someone under false pretenses, there needed to be trust.

     "Oh God, you are so untouched.  Spock I can’t, it’s tempting, you’re tempting, but I...just...no." Jim said, shaking his head in the negative and compressing his lips.  “I’ll be okay, I promise.  It will go away.  I think?”

    “That is of some concern Jim, even I am aware of this, as a male.  It is risky to let your condition go unresolved.  You are afraid to try?” Spock asked.  He still didn’t know Jim very well, but fear was something that did not sit right on those young shoulders, also his level of curiosity seemed to have no ceiling.

     “I am not afraid.” Jim huffed out and brushed his hair back, before leaning his cheek on his hand to gaze back at Spock.

     “You are not even curious enough to experience something that few, if any outside of Vulcan know about?” Spock said, continuing to bait Jim’s natural curiosity.  

     Jim considered Spock for a long moment before saying,“I mean, when you put it that way, yeah I am curious.  I just wish it wasn’t because you felt an obligation to your cargo’s safety.” Jim made one handed air quotes.

     “You wish to engage my emotions in this activity?” Spock asked, for clarification.

     “No.  Yeah.  No.  I mean you’re Vulcan, things don’t happen for you that way.  It’s just...I…if and when I do something like this, it’s not really ever one sided.  Both parties are involved.” Jim said, looking up at him with some hesitancy, knowing it was probably considered ill manners to ask or demand a Vulcan to show emotions.  

     “But I will be involved, I will be the one initiating and maintaining the meld.” Spock said, still not understanding what Jim was trying to tell him.

     Jim’s eyes slid away, looking everywhere but Spock, “Forget it,” he mumbled.  

     “I am not explaining things well.” said Spock.  He moved from his position, to sit down on the floor next to Jim, never releasing his wrist.  When Jim still wouldn’t look at him, he took matters into his own hands, reached over to grab Jim’s other shoulder and pulled Jim roughly towards him, across his lap.

     “Whoa!?” Jim said, surprised by the strong motion, his queasy stomach flipping.  He reflexively moved to straddle Spock, causing his current situation to present itself. “Unh,” Jim grunted, face flushing red from embarrassment.  

     He made to remove himself from Spock, but he was held down by strong hands, one on his hip and the other still holding his wrist.  All that he succeeded in doing was a few ineffective shifts that further exacerbated his already precarious, current situation.  He could have sworn that Spock was laughing at him without smiling.  How he managed to do that, was beyond him.  

     Spock wrapped an arm around Jim’s waist to hold him steady, before reaching the other hand up to brush it across the side of Jim’s face, where he had earlier highlighted the area.

     “Everything will be all right, Jim.” said Spock, before placing his fingers steadily on Jim’s psi points and firming his grip.  He paused and asked “Do you accept?”

     “You’ll see everything!” Jim whispered, his voice rough.  “I don’t want that.”

     This was not a question, Spock could sense the fear and terror coursing through the young man.  Spock shook his head and said “Only what you wish to show me and share.  We have been taught to respect the privacy of another’s mind.  To do otherwise would be a grave offense.  Do you accept me into your mind?”

     Jim took a fraction of a second to make his decision, he closed his eyes and nodded.

     Jim heard a soft “My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts,” before Spock gave a slight push with fingers and something that wasn’t physical.  Jim he sank into a swirling galaxy of stars, cold and open, with something fiery lingering on the horizon.  Both feelings combined, and Jim’s stomach lurched again, before he found his balance.

     "It's weird," Jim said, trying to adjust himself to the loss of vision. "Is that you?" He mentally squinted in the general direction he thought was Spock.  He raised a hand as Spock passed through him, young and strong, full of rough sand, leather and the spark of a million stars.

     "I am whatever you wish me to be." Spock’s voice came from every direction until it coalesced in front of where Jim imagined he was standing.

     "I can’t really see you, but I can see you, huh?”

     “Things are different in a meld Jim.  Do you wish to see me?”

     “Yes.  No, you’re kind of pretty this way.  It’s a bit disorienting, is all.”  Jim laughed, “It just makes everything more mysterious, but hey, at least we don’t appear to be in that dump anymore.”  Jim admired Spock’s mindscape, while he waited patiently for Jim to adjust.  JIm could feel the amusement the sandy, leather, warmed around him. “Alright, show me what to do."  The sands and stars of Spock’s mind swirled up, rushing quickly through Jim, he laughed as he felt the flow and rush as he was wrapped in Spock.  He held what passed for his hands out to feel the cool, vibrant textures that were Spock.  

     Spock tried to maintain his stance, as a casual observer, within Jim’s mind.  His only goal was to help Jim, but the curious pull and laughing exuberance that came from Jim’s end of the meld was overwhelming.  Spock discovered that he could not keep his mental hands from touching Jim’s mental skin, in the brushing contact through the landscape of Jim’s mind.  He was warm, night sky, with a galaxy of stars hovering above a meadow of Terran grass.  Spock brushed a hand against the blades, making patterns.  And as mercurial as his human nature was in real life, Jim's mindscape was suddenly switching to the sunrise of another day.  Spock saw the change to a slanting sunshine through a multi-colored glass and Spock was reminded of a piece of what his Mother called ‘stained-glass,’ that hung in her private office in their home on Vulcan.  Jim felt, to put it bluntly, brilliantly human.

     Jim was reaching and twining himself within Spock and sounds were pulled from Jim that Spock had never heard from another being.  At first he thought he had injured the human, and tried to pull back, to lessen the mental contact, but Jim hurriedly reassured him that those noises weren’t from any unpleasantness in the meld, on the contrary, they were the complete opposite.  Fascinating,  Spock thought, as the scientist and explorer that was nestled at Spock’s core woke up and came out to play.  

     As Spock felt more and more of Jim’s mental and physical reaction to him, it became difficult for him to distinguish one from the other, to keep some semblance of balance.  Without losing contact, he felt Jim move roughly against him and breathe harshly against his ear, in the physical world, causing a shudder to roll up Spock’s entire spine.  He marveled at the feel.  This led to Spock beginning to make small noises that escaped his control as well, they were a combination of frustration, distress and longing.  He was unable to control the emotions that the human was encouraging through his own emotional experience of the meld.  How to allow that which was not supposed to exist between them?  

     Jim felt his distress, although he didn’t know what brought it on.  He had been thoroughly enjoying himself with the feel and taste of a mental Spock, but he immediately withdrew from the encounter within the meld and tried to clumsily soothe Spock.  Spock felt his clumsy attempt at disengaging.

    “I’m sorry,” Jim tried to say, pushing and backing away, shrinking from the mental embrace.  He felt his physical body briefly and grimaced at what had worsened.  “This was a bad idea.”

     Spock’s mental hands reached for, and pulled him close once more, Jim’s warmth brushing up against Spock’s cool mind. Spock attempted to soothe Jim, who was beginning to sense a feverish warmth, creeping along the edges of Spock’s mental fingers. Those same mental fingers combed through Jim’s mind rhythmically, like a hand through his hair, seeking to soothe and be soothed.

     “Apologies for what is necessary, are not logical.” Spock said, quietly.

     “I would NOT consider this necessary or logical.  I’m using you pretty bad, aren’t I?” Jim asked, sorrow clouding their connection.

     “On the contrary,” Spock said, as he flexed his mental fingers until they developed sharp nails and the rhythmic combing became faster and harder.  “This feels quite nice.”

     “That feels nice?”  Jim asked, leaning into the touch, murmuring. “That does feel nice.”

     “I am gratified you find it such.” Spock purred.

     “Was that you?  Did you just pu-” Jim asked before gasping as Spock’s mental fingers raked their nails along a pleasurable spot in his mind, interrupting his words.  “Hngh, aaahh.” Jim cried out, arching against Spock.

     At the abrupt change in the physical, Spock stopped and withdrew a fraction from Jim’s mind.  Jim could tell that Spock was still fearful and curious at the same time, well, in his book, no one got anywhere if they were too scared to go somewhere.  Jim mentally lit up with humor, the sparks blinding Spock for a moment before he was mentally barrelling into Spock, in a rough form of permission, “Do that thing again,” he demanded.

     Physical and mental hands became intertwined and as one.  A cool hand brushed up a warm torso, sharp nails raked under a soft t-shirt, and scraped their way down thick back muscles, before making it’s way to the waistband of denim, searching for Jim.   Warm human hands grasped at thick leather, a set of hips pressed down and up, making small circles.  At each turn, small excited noises escaped them both.  Each as unaware of the other, until Jim’s mouth blindly found his, and Spock turned his head in surprise, to respond willingly.  A crook of a smile started at the corner of Jim’s mouth and mind, lazy and winding itself luxuriously across both of their mindscapes.

     Within Jim’s mind, Spock had taken control of the meld, as he had said he would. Spock continued to spin Jim further and further out, into a spiraling pit of pleasure, until Jim was pulled as far as he could go.  Hanging on by a thin line of tension, Jim flailed in anticipation, he didn’t think he could go any further!  Spock could hear Jim’s desperate gasps and feel the tight tension in his body, as it was held bow tight above him, his thighs squeezing him tight, fingers gripping hard enough to bruise.  

     Jim was waiting, waiting and waiting to be released.  Hovering above that precipice of pleasure, he looked down in his mind at the distance he would have to go, he could see a soft golden glow starting at the bottom of where Spock had brought him, a tiny star waiting for him.  “Do it,” he whispered.  He began to shake against Spock’s mind and lips.

     Spock let out one small, dark, mental run of humor, before he pulled Jim a little further, stretching him out as far as he safely could.  When he felt Jim shake violently, he sharpened his mental fingers and cut the tie that held him.  With one breath, shared and held between them, Jim came flying up and apart within his mind and arms.

     They came out of the meld in a tangle of bodies.  Jim sprawled out on top of Spock, satisfied, sleepy blue eyes, rimmed in red, gazed into Spock’s dazed brown ones.  “That was weird.  Weirdly amazing.  Weirdlazing” Jim whispered.  His eyes started to stutter close into sleep, when Spock nudged him until Jim was blinking at him again, still not quite coherent yet.  Jim smiled in a satisfactory manner,“That was awesome.  Did I say that already?”

     “No, you said it was weird, amazing, weirdlazing, which I do not believe is a real word, so I am not sure if that qualifies.” said Spock, softly.

     Jim chuckled, “It qualifies.”  He winced at the motion and said “I think I made a mess.”

     Spock took a quick inventory of his own body and quietly said, “It would seem that I made a mess as well.”

     Jim lifted his head and stared open mouthed with shock at Spock, who suddenly became focused on the bend of Jim’s shoulder.  Jim saw a faint stain of green bloom across Spock’s cheeks and ear tips.  “Are you blushing!?” Jim asked, startled at what he was seeing.

     At this exclamation, Spock tried to bury his face into Jim’s arm, “No.” Spock mumbled as he quickly tried to rein in his body’s rebellious actions.

     “I’m so sorry,” Jim said, hastily, sorry that he had embarrassed his new friend.  He began to tug at Spock, to get him to turn, but it was like pulling on one of the old farm horses that decided that it was not going to be led out to the plow.  Jim grabbed a handful of Spock’s hair and gave a sharp tug.  The Vulcan gave a small gasp and jerked his head until he was finally looking Jim in the eyes.  “I’m sorry.  Please don’t be embarrassed.  I thought you said it wouldn’t affect you.”

     “It would appear that I was mistaken.”  Spock swallowed and shifted slightly under him.  Jim released his hold on his hair and Spock continued softly, “Remember, I’ve never done this before.  In theory, it should not have had any effect on me.  I did not factor in my inexperience.  It is what it is.  Kaiidith.”  

     At this admission, Jim dropped his head to Spock’s shoulder, “But you’re okay though, I didn’t hurt you?”

     “I do not see how, since it was not a true physical act.”

     “It kinda was Spock, but in the mental sense, how are you?” asked Jim, trying to be clear.

     “I do not understand, you are psi-null, how could you hurt me mentally?” asked Spock, confused.

     “You said that this was supposed to be one sided,” Jim ran his hand through his hair, “That it would help me, and now I find that it wasn’t...that you got pulled into something that you didn’t expect or really consent to experience...with...me.”

     “Ah.  Consent.  Since I was in control of the meld Jim, I was in control of any and all of my reactions.  It takes a greater mind than what you possess to take my free will from me.  What I gave, I gave freely to thee.  What I received,” Spock raised a hand and brushed it through Jim’s short, sweaty blonde hair, the cooling sweat against his fingers caused him to shiver, “I received willingly from thee.  I must also ask, didst thou give and receive freely?”

     Jim, stared down at Spock and leaned ever so slightly into the caress. He lowered his head until their noses were just brushing.  Spock’s hand stilled as Jim quietly replied, “I received freely, I gave freely and I want to keep you, fiercely.”

     “Do you feel better?”  Spock asked, trying to move away from the emotion within Jim’s quiet demand.

     “Oh yeah, thanks Spock. Hang on and I’ll find something to uh...clean up with.”  said Jim, he stood up on wobbly legs and took off his cardigan and spoke to it.  “You will always be my favorite and I promise that you’ll still be my favorite when I have to replace you.”  He tore it down the middle, into two pieces and poured the water left to them, onto a corner of each half.  “Here you go,” Jim said, coming back to Spock.  “I understand if you want some privacy.”

     Spock took the ruined half of Jim’s cardigan and watched as the young man absently pulled down the back of his shirt and turned away to begin his own clean up.  Spock saw the long scratches as Jim adjusted his clothing, he felt his face heat up once more.  Jim shrugged his shoulders at the strange sensation that moving his shirt had brought him.  He looked over his shoulder, but Spock had his back to him.  He shrugged at the illusion of privacy and turned his back to begin his own ablutions.  When they were finished, they threw the soiled pieces into the far corner of their cell.  

     Jim sat down on the pallet, saving his body from any more aches and pains from the hard floor, although the pallet was barely a step up in comfort.  Spock, for lack of any other logical reason, walked over to join Jim, slid down next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.  Jim leaned into the contact and rested his head against Spock’s shoulder.  Exhausted and completely satisfied, Jim nodded off into a doze and Spock began to enter into another meditation.


	14. Break Out

     There was complete silence, except for the humming of the ship’s engines as it made it’s way to auction, when one of the Orion slave girls went tripping down the corridors of the ship.  She danced and skipped, twirling her bag and smiling at the various males that passed her by, they paid no attention to her.  She had served her master, or mistress well, she had done her time, had seen what that life was like and in the meantime, observed what her life could be beyond the ship’s walls.

     Her people were loving and cruel at the same time.  They should have been a completely loving race, but when the teachings of their species became twisted, their loves and lives became twisted as well.  Now they were reduced to moving their cruelty off planet and had taken to trading in flesh for what seemed like an eternity, if it had ever been any different, there were none alive who could remember.

     She continued to make her way down to where the new and valuable flesh that they had captured, were being held, for within one of those cells lay her ticket out of this tired existence.  There were no additional guards or security protocol added to the door to the cell she wanted, Flavia’s orders were enough to keep anyone from entering.  Predictability was a mistake, she smiled and gave a small clap of her hands.  A few commands pressed into the door panel by nimble fingers, and the door opened.  A small puff of moving air passed her and she inhaled, before giving another smile, she knew what that smell meant.

     In the corner, on the pallet provided them, were the two pieces of valuable flesh, curled together.  The Vulcan’s arms were wrapped tightly around the human, as if in sleep, he might disappear.  She admired the innocent picture they presented, before she frowned.  The human was still pale and sickly looking, even though she knew by smell, that he had found release with the Vulcan,from the earlier Orion torture.  “Well, aren’t you two the cutest cuddle puddle I’ve ever seen!” She said.  

     Jim gave a snort and kicked a foot out, and wondered who Bones had decided to bring back to their dorm at this unwelcome hour.  “Bones? What time is it?”  Jim asked, turning his head, God he needed to get a new pillow, this one was giving him a crick in the neck.  He cracked an eye open and blinking through the sticky sleepiness that stuck to his eyelashes, he saw the outline of a female, with wild, curly hair waving about in the light from the hallway.  

     “Bones?” Jim called again.

     “Mmmm, not Bones, who’s he?” asked the girl, her voice was young and bright, curious.  Jim managed to clear his eyes after blinking a few times and finally saw the female standing in his room.  She was green skinned, wearing a clean, skimpy Orion slave tunic, with darker green fresh welts and old scars on her arms and thighs.  Jim jerked upright, now fully awake, he wasn’t in his dorm room, he was in the belly of an Orion Slaver ship and...Spock!  Jim hurriedly glanced around, oh, there he is.  Jim must have fallen over into Spock’s lap at some point after their interlude and slept.  He placed his hand on Spock’s leg, whose eyes were still closed.  

     “Who is Bones?” The girl asked again.  Jim’s face paled as he recognized her from the group of Orion females they had been using on him in Room 8.  He struggled to sit up, still under Spock’s arm, before that was harshly aborted when Spock came out of his trance and shoved Jim behind him.  The Orion female moved from the entrance, closing the door behind her and danced her way into their cell, swinging a rough bag around her.  

     “There now, that’s better.  Privacy is a luxury on this spacebarge.  Ooh, a possessive Vulcan, nice!  You know, I’ve always wanted one.” She said conversationally.

     “Yeah,” said Jim poking his head out from behind Spock, “Well, get in line.”

     “Jim.”  Spock said quietly.

     “What?”

     “Remember, some beings do take things literally.” Spock reminded Jim gently, he was eyeing the girl, wondering if he could risk taking her out and escaping with Jim.  He had no idea about the layout of the ship, but Jim had been out there, hopefully he had noticed something.  Spock could read Orion, he had no idea if Jim could.  Between the two of them, they could manage to get to one of the escape pods at least, and reprogram that.

     “Oh.” Jim grabbed a fistfull of Spock’s jacket, “Sorry.  Get your own.”

     The young Orion laughed, “Well now, who’s to say I want him now, Jimmy boy?  Maybe it’s you I want.”

     Spock made a primal snarling sound and rose in a half crouch, his hand pressed firmly against Jim’s chest, the heavy human heartbeat thundered beneath his touch.

     “In that case, fuck off.” Jim said.

     “Wish I could, Jimmy boy, wish I could, but I can’t.  I need you two to come….” She winked at them.  “With me.”

     Spock snarled again, but Jim just rolled his eyes.

     “Well, you can’t blame me for trying, apparently I missed the first show.  I don’t think I’d mind catching a second showing, if you catch my drift.  You put on such a poor performance earlier Jimmy boy, it was quite distressing.  I think you should make it up to me.” She wiggled her eyebrows in delight.  Jim couldn’t stop himself from laughing, she was just too much.  Spock glared at Jim, who just shrugged.

     “I do not do public performances,” Spock said, eyes on the girl as she moved around the room.

     “You also don’t share.  You, are no fun.” she said, pouting.  She slowly approached them and opened the bag.

     “I’m not sure if you realize the danger that you’ve put yourself in.” Jim said, leaning back against the wall, Spock’s hand lifting a fraction away from him.

     “What danger would that be?” She asked, squatting down to rummage through the sack.

     Jim pointed at Spock and before the girl managed to look up, she was caught by her throat and slammed against the wall, her sack fell to the floor.  She struggled for a few moments as Spock bared his teeth and squeezed his fingers against her throat.

     She stilled and smiled at him and said “Oh honey, I like you, but the etiquette is to work out our safe word before we get rough.  And always, always, check to make sure you’re opponent doesn’t have a weapon.”  

     Spock blinked as a cold blade was pressed through his t-shirt and under his ribcage, poking into the skin directly above his heart.  He couldn’t have said where she had hidden it on her person, her clothing was scant and without pockets.

     “I did say I always wanted a Vulcan, which means I did my research, so I know all about your….biology.”  At her words, Spock froze and paled.  “Which,” she continued on, “I’m pretty sure you didn’t enlighten little Jimmy boy here about.”

     “I know where his heart is,” Jim said belligerently.

     The girl giggled and looked him up and down.  “I’m sure you do, I’m also sure you know where he keeps….other things.” She giggled again with delight as a faint blush spread across Jim’s face.

     “Now,” she said, digging the point of her knife into Spock, “Our safe word of the day is….” she looked at both of them from beneath her eyelashes as they waited for her to finish her sentence, her blue eyes glinting with mischief.  Jim rolled his eyes.  “Pike,” she finished.  

     At this word, Jim’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch.  He came up behind Spock and put his hand on his shoulder.  

     “Let her go Spock,” he said quietly, his eyes on the girl, she was smiling mischievously at him and wiggled the fingers from her other hand in his direction as if to say hello.

     Spock frowned at him from over his shoulder.  “Jim, she is female.”

     “Yeah, I know.” Jim agreed.

     “I bet he does.”

     “You only have one setting, don’t you?” Jim asked, his normal teasing voice coming back to him.  It was a bit rough and he coughed..

     “You know it, go hard or go harder!” She cheered.

     “She doesn’t smell like the other females Spock, can’t you smell that?”

     “Orion pheromones have no effect on Vulcans, much to my sorrow and regret.  He can’t smell me like you can, however, Jimmy boy you are clever.  Yup, I gave myself a dose of pheromone suppressant, so I won’t have an effect on you.  Think of it as me doing a favor for you.  Now, do me a favor and tell me how you bagged a Vulcan?” She grinned at him again.

     “Is this conversation seriously happening?” Spock asked, feeling out of his element.  He had gone forgotten as the two bantered back and forth.

     “Yes, now shush, Jimmy boy is about to reveal his secrets.”  She put her free hand over Spock’s mouth.  Spock recoiled in disgust, finally releasing her.  “That’s better.  Now, I’m on a suppressant, because I’m here to get you, both of you, out of here.”

     “You were torturing him before, how do we know that this is not a trick, to lead us to something else nefarious?” Spock asked, he needed to be sure before he let Jim out of his sight again.

     “Aw, come on, do I look like torture?”  She took a step back and waved her hand up and down her body.

     “Yes.” Spock said swiftly.

     “Wow.  Maybe I need to rethink my idea about having a Vulcan.”

     “I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” said Jim, “I heard the words ‘get you out of here’ and maybe we’re going about this the wrong way.  You know who we are and you also know the word Pike, so who are you?”

     “I’m Gaila, and as soon as I get you back to Earth, I’m going to have to demand a kiss or something from Pike as final payment for this.”

     “What is Pike?” asked Spock.

     “He’s a who, not a what and he’s Jimmy boy’s and my handler.” said Gaila.  

     Spock looked as confused as one could get a Vulcan to admit to.  “Handler?” he asked.

     “Uh,” said Jim, waving his hands at Gaila.

     “Ooooh,” she gasped, “oooooooooooooh.  You mean he doesn’t know?  The plot thickens!”

     “Know what?” asked Spock, looking back and forth between an Orion blinking too innocently at him and a strangely silent Jim.  

     Gaila stepped away from Spock and re-sheathed her knife somewhere within her skimpy outfit.  She walked up to Jim and trailed a finger down his cheek.  “You naughty boy.”

     “Stop it.” hissed Jim, glancing furtively at Spock.

     Gaila winked at Jim with that mischievous glint to her eye again, before she turned her attention to Spock and said “You’re on a need to know basis, and you don’t need to know.  Now, back to where you were, go go!”  Gaila pushed on them.

     “What?  Why?” asked Jim.

     “Go back to that corner and go back like you were, I need to take a picture of you.”

     “For proof of life?” asked Spock as Gaila continued to shoo them.

     “That’s a fantastic idea, but my safety word knows you’re alive and not well, but I need to set up a holo recording, so come on, come on hurry it up!”

     Jim finally caught on and sat back down in the corner, pulling Spock after him.  They hunkered back down again, Jim pretending to be asleep.

     “Tell him to close his eyes and to stop glaring at me.  It’s freaky, alright!” Gaila whispered harshly.

     Jim looked up to see that Spock indeed, was glaring at Gaila.  He lifted his hand and physically closed Spock’s eyelids.  “There’s a good Vulcan,” he whispered.  Spock growled at him.  “Ah, ah, ah.  Be nice.”

     “Okay, on the count of three, hold it for five breaths, one, two, three!”

     Jim and Spock proceeded to breathe slow and deep as if in sleep.  “Gotcha!” Gaila exclaimed.  They opened their eyes to see her adjusting a holo recorder, their image in fake sleep, flickering, small and held within her hands.  “I still say you guys are the most adorable cuddle puddle I have seen in a long, long while.  Vulcans normally aren’t so touchy, oh can I hug you!  Both, can I hug you both?”

    “No.” Spock said.

     “Yeah, sure why not, I need it.” Jim said, raising his arms.  Spock frowned at him over Gaila’s head.  She squealed and wrapped her arms around Jim swiftly, squeezing once, before releasing him to quickly pinch Spock’s cheeks.

    “Hey!” Spock barked and moved out of reach.

     Gaila laughed, “Here, here,” she said and returned to her sack to pull out a crumpled wad of male Orion robes and shook them out at Jim.  “Put these on.  Put the hoods up and keep your faces down when we go.”  Jim took the garment from her and shook one out, wrinkling his nose at the smell.

     “Sorry, Spock.  I know your sense of smell is better than mine, just do your best.” Jim said, handing one out.  Spock sneered at the offending garment, but proceeded to drape it around him.

     Gaila went to the opposite corner and began to set up the holo recorder, their image projected in a loop where they once sat.  Jim grinned, he agreed with Gaila, they were a pretty cute cuddle puddle.  “I wish I could keep that,” he said wistfully.

     “We’ll get you more, don’t you worry,” said Gaila, patting his cheek.  She paused to straighten both his and Spock’s robes.  “Don’t you look fantastic. Oh wait, one last touch.”  She reached back into the sack and pulled out a container.  She twisted the cap off and with a flourish, presented the contents to them both.  Jim wrinkled his nose at it.  The jar was filled with a viscous green cream.

     “Do I even want to know what that is?” Jim asked.

     “It’s face cream that I dyed green.  Put it on, you’ll blend in with the gang more and you’ll be moisturized, it’s a two for one, what a deal!”

     “This is ridiculous, I will not-” Spock began, stopping mid sentence as Jim stuck two fingers into the jar of green face cream and smeared it over Spock’s face.

     “Now you’re ridiculous.” Jim said and laughed at the stunned look on Spock’s face, both of his eyebrows had shot up to the top of his head.

     “Let’s go boys,” Gaila said, scooping up some green cream, she began painting Jim’s feet before tossing it up into Jim’s hands so that he could paint his face.  Jim held the jar out to Spock who curled his lip as he scooped some out and began to slowly smear the delicately scented cream on his hands.  

     “This is completely unsanitary.” Spock complained in a quiet voice.

     “You’ll survive, swear to God,” Jim whispered, “Now stop being such a prissy miss and move it.”  Spock snarled softly at Jim, but finished quickly and handed the jar back to Gaila, who took it with a small girlish laugh.  

     “Alright boys, hoods up, head’s down, walk slowly and follow me.”  Gaila grabbed her bag, motioned them to stand to the side of the door as she unlocked it and the door slid open, revealing the corridor.  She peered out and looked from side to side, “It’s clear, let’s go.”  She slipped out the door, Jim and Spock followed her.  She locked the door one more time before dancing down the hallway, the boys silently following her in single file.  She danced ahead of them through the corridors and to the shuttle bay of the slaver ship.  

     “Now what?” Jim asked, there were Orion males monitoring the controls to the bay doors and the shuttles.

     “Now, you still be quiet.” Gaila hissed at him.  She pulled out a PADD from her sack, that had hot pink hearts stuck all on the back.  She ran her fingers over the screen and began to enter in a series of codes.  Jim looked over her shoulder, interested in anything that was happening around him and watched her hack into the system and let loose a communications program that would ghost an official order from the Orion Syndicate that would appear to be sent to Flavia’s messaging system.

     The message ordered Flavia to send two Orion males and a female into immediate service on another slaver ship, due to an illness that had diminished their crew.  A message from Flavia would certify the change order and approve the use of one long haul shuttle for transport.  This was then forwarded to the control center of the shuttle bay.  Jim let out a low whistle at her work.   Gaila leaned back into Jim and wrapped an arm around the back of his head.  “Tell me you don’t want me, right now.”

     Jim heard Spock growl behind him as he let out a small laugh and gave Gaila a quick hug.  She smartly removed herself from Jim and twirled around, smiling at the pair.  “Brains and beauty before brawn and ugly,” she teased as she danced into the shuttle bay, happy as a little green clam.  Jim and Spock followed her through and stood silently by as she distracted the males at their position.  They verified the orders and gave them a shuttle number.  

     Gaila wiped her PADD and skipped along the metal surfaces and stairs until she clambered aboard and assumed the pilot’s seat.  She motioned for them to sit along the side as she began the launch prep.  Jim and Spock settled themselves and then sat silently.  Jim saying whatever prayers he could, to whatever deities that were out there, that they wouldn’t be discovered and that they would please, please go home.  

     He didn’t realize he was breathing faster and faster, until Spock laid a hand against his bare wrist and attempted to project calm and peace.  Jim flashed a grin and then closed his eyes again in silent prayer as Gaila spoke to the males again about launch procedure and clearance.  He felt the shuttle lift from it’s dock and begin to move.  He opened his eyes and stared forward out the view screen and saw the bay doors open and their shuttle slowly pass through them.

     “Almost home, boys, almost home,” Gaila whispered, engaging the Orion’s version of a cloaking device on the shuttle and entered the command to override the shuttle’s tracking system.  She grinned back at them, “We hope you sit back and thank you for flying Orion Air!”

 

     The ride home was not uneventful.  It quickly became an uncomfortable threesome as soon as Spock decided to use the on board computer.  Jim sat quietly, wrapped in his robe and unawares next to Gaila in the co-pilot’s seat.  She had allowed it, and Spock had acquiesced to being separated, which left him to his own devices at the back of the shuttle.  

     Spock hacked into Starfleet and then narrowed the search until he came across Captain Christopher Pike.  He knows that name and that face.  This was the same Christopher Pike that had made contact with him and tried to talk him into entering Starfleet, after he had turned down his admission.  Pike had also told him to call his mother, because she was worried about him and as illogical as that was for a Vulcan to experience, it was completely logical for a human Mother to experience regarding their offspring.  It was an odd conversation, to say the least.

     “Where are we going?” Spock asked, from the back of the shuttle.

     “Earth,” Gaila said, not giving him any more information than that.

     “More specifically, where on Earth are we going?” Spock asked, clarifying his question.

     Gaila and Jim looked at each other and in that instant, Spock knew, but he didn’t want to believe.  “Jim,” he said, the one syllable a quiet demand.

     Jim closed his eyes and opened them, still staring out the view screen.  “We’re going to Starfleet Headquarters,” said Jim.

     “To one of their private shuttle hangars.” Gaila said, when Jim looked at her crossly, she whispered, “He said to be specific, do you want a pissed off Vulcan?”

     “He’s not that bad,” muttered Jim, “Vulcan’s aren’t animals.”

     “You are aware that I do not wish to go to Starfleet.” Spock said.  “Gaila, you will drop us off at the nearest Starbase.”

     “Sorry, love, can’t.  I have orders.  Well, technically, I don’t officially belong to Starfleet yet, so they’re not really orders but I need to get you both to Starfleet, so I can belong, and so can you.” Gaila said, smiling back at Spock, her smile disappeared quickly.  “Uh oh.”

     Jim was silent on the matter.

     “I’m pretty sure Jimmy boy would love to have you tag along as well.” Gaila suggested hopefully.

      “I am sure he would, love that as you say, but I was only authorized to deliver him to Spacedock and return to my employer for further instructions, alone.  Since this delivery was interrupted, what of the package you were entrusted to deliver Jim?  Surely we must recover that before returning you.  Flavia still has it.  Did you forget that?”

     “Pssh, that’s not necessary,” said Gaila, fiddling with the controls of the ship.

     “Is it not?” asked Spock, more suspicious now.  “You said you were carrying an important package, Jim.”

     “I did.” Jim agreed, quietly.  He flicked his eyes to Spock briefly before looking forward again.  “Whatever is on that disc, it’s not worth keeping.  I don’t even know what’s on it for real.  Flavia said it was solar flare data.  If it’s coded, I can’t open it, the Vulcans never said anything about it, they just gave it to me.”

     “And yet you do not wish to recover it?”  Spock asked again and stared at the back of Jim’s head, Jim could feel his eyes boring into him,

“It’ll be recovered once we get to Starfleet,” said Gaila, helpfully contributing to their conversation.

     “What do you mean it will be recovered once we get to Starfleet, I can not imagine they will go after one Orion slaver ship for a data disc, and I do not wish to go to Starfleet.” Spock repeated himself, losing patience.  “I need to contact my company and inform them of what has happened.  Gaila, you will drop us off at the nearest Starbase or Spacedock, not Starfleet Headquarters.  Do you understand?”

     “It’s not on a data disc, that was a trojan horse, Jimmy boy still has the package.”

     “What?” asked Jim and Spock at the same time.

     “Also, you, are in no position to give orders Sp...urk!” Jim said, breaking off into a gurgle, as he was yanked backwards by the neck of his robes, out of his seat and slammed against the bulkhead of the ship, “What-”he began, but was cut off by Spock putting his fingers against the V of his neck and shoulder, in that oh so familiar position Jim had seen him do once before.  Jim shut his mouth and glared up at the taller man with the crazy hair and painted face.  He looked almost savage, for a Vulcan.  Spock slowly moved his other hand, until it was pressed against Jim’s psi points and said softly, “ _Nahp, hif-bi tu throks,”_  

     Jim heard Gaila, somewhere in the distance say “Oh dear.”

     “ _Bath'paik.  Ti'amah_.” Jim said, narrowing his eyes and staring Spock straight in the eyes, holding his gaze.  

     “If you want me to trust in you ever again, or speak to you ever again, you will let me in.”

     Jim glared mulishly up at Spock, but after a few seconds, his natural stubborn streak raising up and telling everyone to go fuck themselves.  That inner voice immediately started trying to eat it’s foot when Spock’s brown eyes, though open and looking right at him, all but shuttered to the sight of Jim and he began to turn away, his fingers falling from his face.

     “Alright, alright Spock, stop, I’m sorry.  Just do it, and be careful, please.”  Jim said, immediately turning his face, to brush his chin against the tail end of Spock’s fingers as they fell away, his chin catching the tip of Spock’s middle finger.  Spock shuddered at the light contact between his sensitive fingers and Jim’s stubble.  Jim was grasping a small piece of Spock’s robes, his voice fading at the end, not wanting to lose contact with this man.  Out of honor, he did owe Spock whatever the truth was, after he had suffered unnecessarily along with him.  

     Spock was on him in an instant, muttered softly, “My mind to your mind,” and pushed into Jim’s mind.  This was not as gentle and exciting as the first meld Spock had done with him, nor was it detached and clinical, as T’pau’s had been.  This was fast, hard and bruising, like someone was rummaging around, swiftly slamming open and closing various kitchen cabinets and drawers until Spock came to T’Pau’s hidden area and the knowledge that Jim had been sent to entice Spock to Starfleet.  At this discovery, everything came to a grinding halt in Jim’s mind, Jim frozen, Spock frozen, nothing moved.  Then things began to seethe and roll out of Jim’s control.  Spock went to T’Pau’s hidden area, now revealed to him.  

     “What is this?” He asked, brushing his mental fingers against the hard, red sandstone that was T’Pau’s residue within Jim.  He wanted to smash it, destroy it remove any evidence of someone else from Jim’s mind.  This wasn’t Jim.  

     “I don’t know,” Jim said weakly.  “I...I didn’t know it was there, that’s not me!” Jim reached out to it, beginning to panic, but Spock stopped him.

     “Do not.” Spock murmured.

     He studied it for a moment before making an attempt to open it, but it hummed back at him with a warning, flickering from red to gray.  If he made the wrong move to crack it open, it would destroy whatever information Jim was carrying and Jim in the process.  Spock was furious at the deception and that Jim was carrying something so destructively Vulcan within him, that he probably was never made fully aware of the consequences about it.  “You fool.  You little fool, what could possibly make Starfleet worth this!” Spock hissed to Jim within the joining of their minds.  

     Jim, quiet during Spock’s examination of his mind, laid naked and exposed within the meld swirled up in a flash of decaying sunlight, “You, Spock.”  Jim looked away, and began to hum a little tune that Spock recognized.  It was the strange whistling tune Jim had made when they first encountered each other in the bathroom at Starbase 14.  As Jim began to hum within his mind, things began to fade from Spock’s sight, cabinets and doors began to close, Jim simply ignored Spock’s presence and began housekeeping.

     Slightly fascinated and horrified at the self protective method he had triggered within Jim, Spock began to withdraw.  As he left Jim’s mind, he felt Jim’s pulse pounding hard beneath his other hand at his neck.  He slowly removed both of his hands and turned away from Jim, hands clenching and unclenching.  He had been a fool and had walked into a pretty little trap.  He was both angry and disturbed by what he had felt in the meld.  “You lied.  This was all a lie.  Everything.” Spock snarled and turned away, pacing back and forth within the shuttle, like a caged animal.  

     Jim gathered whatever was left of him, his dignity, his privacy, his borrowed robe, tighter around him.  His bare feet, painted a fake green were cold against the floor, his wrists were a mess of red from the bindings of earlier.  He was almost nothing like he was when he started on this journey, while looking at Spock, who appeared almost unchanged, just a little greener.  Jim had the sudden urge to mark him.

     “What?  You’re angry that someone actually wants you huh?  That they’d go to any length to have you?” Jim asked.

     “You make them sound no better than the Orions.” Spock hissed that last S, sounding feral.

     “No one is actually trying to buy you at Starfleet!  What have you been offered?  Absolutely NOTHING that no other nameless cadet has been offered!  Okay, so yeah, they went a bit overboard in their enthusiasm to get you to join.  Whatever.  You’re the one that’s divided his choices into two stupid little categories and seem to think you’ve got something to prove.”  Jim said angrily, pushing away from the wall,  “It’s like you’re deliberately trying to make yourself unworthy of any smart choice.  Rebel my ass.  Get enough tattoos, haircuts and leather jackets and think it’ll make you different from what a Vulcan really is?  Than what humans are?  Trying to avoid your responsibilities just makes you the same.  As them and as us.  Us humans, and if you think that’s a dirty word, then you’re a...a..a….neanderthalic, xenophobic, hypocritical, half-human, punk ass Vulcan!!”

     “Impressive vocabulary, coming from the empty-headed, brainwashed, picture perfect poster boy of Starfleet,” Spock snarled, walking back to the end of the shuttle in agitation. “You are the same as everyone else, forcing me to choose.”

     “Forcing you!  Forcing you!  I’ll fucking show you forcing you, you insufferable moron!  How about being forced to live in your father’s shadow?  Forced to eat the shit that they can’t give him, but they sure as hell can give you, day after day no matter how many times you beat their standards!  Forcing is what the Orion’s did to me, or forcing someone to choose between starvation or..or..or.  You don’t even really know what that word means, to really have no choice.” Jim finished in a small voice.  He looked at the floor as he spoke next, “I like that.  Little old me, ‘forcing’ Spock, the great smarty pants Vulcan to do something he doesn’t want to do.  Compared to what you just did to me!” Here, Jim’s voice ended on a high pitch crack as he rubbed the side of his face, where Spock’s finger had pressed against him, “Maybe you do know what it is to force someone.”

     Spock began to visibly bristle and advanced a step, his arms pressed against his sides, his hands gripped tightly into fists.  “What is necessary is never unwise.  You are still the same as all of them.”

     “I call Vulcan bullshit.  But that’s right, maybe I am like them.  Maybe I walk like them, maybe I talk like them, hell sometimes I probably even screw like them!”  Jim flashed a sharp grin, full of teeth and anger, as Spock’s eyes narrowed on him.

     “You will cease speaking to me like this.” said Spock, curtly.

     “The fuck I will.” Jim swiftly walked barefoot up to Spock and put himself directly in his personal space, his voice lowered as if they were discussing something incredibly intimate that he didn’t want an audience to hear, “See, because the difference between you and me is that I don’t think like them and I never have, because I know who I am!  I know that what makes me, me.  I make my own choices, even now, and it ain’t based on the opinions of some-”

     “Jim.” Spock said, trying desperately to tamp down on his shields, his control.

     “Stupid-”

     “Jim,” Spock repeated, his upper lip beginning to curl back into a snarl he was unable to halt, his hands clenched even tighter, the bands of muscles across his chest tightening.

     “Illogical backwater planet full of Vulcan morons!” Jim said, throwing his words to fill the whole of the shuttle.

     “Jimmy boy,” Gaila called from the pilot’s seat, “Vulcans aren’t human.”

     "I know that!” Jim yelled from where he was standing.

     “Mmm, I don’t think you do,” She mumbled looking over her shoulder.

     Spock stayed still, during this exchange, but his breathing became tight and almost imperceptible.  Jim’s eyes moved from the back of Gaila’s head, to stare angrily, once more at Spock.  “Your life has revolved around what that stupid planet, filled with logical xenophobes, has crammed down your throat.  It’s got you to the point where you will never make a decision based on what you want, but on what a whole planet full of assholes thinks you should do.  You can’t even see the worth of a human establishment that actually wants you, and I mean seriously wants you!” Jim thrust his arms out and waved them up and down Spock’s outline.  “You’re so fucked up from those bastards that you don’t even know what you are!  You’re not fully human, you’re not even a real Vul-”  and before Jim could complete the sentence, he heard the snarl of an angry apex predator and felt the crack of human bone against Vulcan bone before he was slammed back against the wall of their shuttle.  

     Before Jim completed his boneless slide down to the floor, he saw the wide-eyed look of shock flash across Spock’s face as if he himself had been stunned at what he did.  As Jim’s vision blurred completely, he whispered “You’re just a lost little boy.”

     Spock brought his hands swiftly behind his back, stunned at his loss of control and sickened at the sight of the cadet’s body crumpled on the floor.  “Jim, I-”

     “Did that make you feel better?” Gaila asked from the pilot seat.  She spared him a quick glance before turning back around.  “I don’t think little Jimmy’s gonna like you so much after that.” Spock ignored Gaila and approached Jim’s still form on the floor, but she continued anyways.  “I go to the trouble of breaking with my own species, to make a pact with Starfleet to break your sorry ass and Jimmy boy’s out of an Orion slave ship headed to market, in order to safely get you guys back to Starfleet and your parents.”

     Spock looked up at Gaila at this statement.  “What?  My parents?”

     “And this is how you’re gonna behave?  Maybe I should leave you at Spacedock, maybe I should just shoot you out into the vacuum of space.”

     “I do not understand.”

     “Well, I do not care,” Gaila bit out, annunciating each word, “I should just leave you where nobody cares about you, stubborn Vulcan.  Now, sit your ass down and move away from him, you’ve done enough damage as it is.  Pretty sure your pretty ass has to write up some official report about damaging the precious package you seemed so concerned about earlier.”  Gaila punched a few buttons on the navigational computer, locking in their coordinates before she rose from the pilot’s seat to see what kind of mess the Vulcan had made of Jimmy boy.  “Move away.”

     “I can see to him,” Spock snarled at her.

     “You lost that right the minute you laid a hostile finger on him.  Even I know the rules of human behavior, now move aside.”  Gaila shoved her way past Spock and grabbed Jim under the arms and legs, lifting him to one of the seats and buckled him in, his head lolled to the side.  Gaila frowned at Spock.  “I hope you didn’t damage him too badly, they won’t be pleased when we get in.  Now, sit your Vulcan ass down in that seat, buckle up and keep your mouth shut.  I have a responsibility to see to the care and delivery of my packages as well, and as long as I bring you in safe and sound, I will actually get to do what I want to do.”

     “And what’s that,” Spock asked, curiously.  He sat next to Jim and refused Gaila’s tugs to move him away.  He propped Jim comfortably against him, trying to support his head.

     “Admission into Starfleet and freedom from Orion slave life.  I had less choices, less education and opportunities than you did, in your privileged life.  At least I was smart enough to recognize the better life decisions and go for what I wanted, rather than laze around in space.  Orion 1, Vulcan, 0, if we’re keeping score.”  Gaila said as she returned to the pilot’s seat and unlocked the navigation computer so she could pilot manually.  She remained silent for the rest of the uneventful trip to Starfleet, as did her cargo.

 


	15. The Return Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for going along on this ride with me! don't be a stranger! leave a comment or a kudos (i will accept the checked box or like the granola chocolate chip kind whatever u can spare). i aim to misbehave, live long and prosper ;)

     In the midst of one of Starfleet’s smaller, less used hangars, Pike and Bones stood toe to toe, glaring at each other; or rather, Pike was glaring and Bones was staring incredulously at his superior officer, trying to keep his voice down.

     “What do you mean you lost him.” Bones asked in a harsh whisper, trying to understand what he had been told.  How do you lose a human, how do you lose this specific human?  No don’t answer that, it’s Jim.”

     “We lost him, how else can I mean that?” Pike asked quietly.

     “Well, get him back!” Bones said, waving his hands around uselessly in the air, it was how he felt about the whole thing, useless.

     “We’re trying McCoy.” Pike ground out.

     “Not hard enough, if you ask me, and nobody asked me.  Nobody asked me if they thought it was a good idea to send an eighteen year old pip squeak off on a fool’s errand, alone!”

     “He went with you!” Pike said, contradicting Bones.

     “Part way and then I had to leave him there, at that starbase, alone God dammit!  I wasn’t given a choice about it either!”

     “Do you want me to consider this conversation insubordination?”

     “You can consider it whatever the hell you want, if it means admitting that you were wrong to send that kid off on his own, with a species of superior strength, speed and intelligence!” Bones spat out.

     “Oh, I think Jim can handle him.”

     “I think you handled him.  I think you handled Jim right into this situation because you knew he wouldn’t refuse a challenge, one of those no-win scenarios he hates.” Bone’s voice began to rise and his face turned an ugly red, he began to pace back and forth, nearly spitting at Pike’s feet.

     “Careful McCoy.”

     “Leonard.” Uhura said his name softly in warning.

     “And you’re in on it too!  I get back, late because the Andromeda was called away to assist a colony experiencing an outbreak, and I come back here to find you lot waiting for me with your news that he’s not back yet!  Because you lost him.  How do you lose an eighteen year old boy, especially this boy!  How do you lose a person?  Space Post has never lost a package, ever, they have the most perfect track record!  He should have been back ages ago.  Where is he!” Bones finished, red faced in his fury and completely forgetting his surroundings at Starfleet’s private hangar.  His voice rang off the high metal ceilings, all shuttle engines were silent as it was the end of the work day.  No shuttles would be flying out, unless so ordered to do so after hours.  Bones had waited impatiently at Spacedock for one of the last shuttles in on Pike’s orders.

     “I’m afraid we don’t know where he is, or they are, to be more precise,” a soft, female voice said.  Bones turned to verbally attack the new person, but halted, when he saw the petite woman with soft warm brown eyes, smiling gently up at him.  Walking calmly by her side was a Vulcan, albeit older than the ones he had come into contact with, excepting T’Pau.

     “I recognize you,” Bones murmured at the older Vulcan, suddenly suspicious.

     “Indeed.” Was the Vulcan’s calm reply.

     “Yeah, I do.  I’m also recognizing now that it was your reprobate of a relative, on that Starbase that I left Jim with.” Bones accused, pointing his finger into the older Vulcan’s space.

     “Very good...McCoy, did I hear Captain Pike correctly?” The older Vulcan asked.

     “Leonard McCoy.  And superhuman hearing, you can add that to my list of Vulcan traits!” Bones said turning to Pike, “I want some answers, now, starting with who these people are.”

     “Perhaps I can explain us to you best, Mr. McCoy, if that’s all right, Captain, Sarek.” The lady asked quietly with a small smile for everyone.  

     Pike looked like he wanted to strangle someone, and he wasn’t sure if it was Jim or McCoy.  He waved his hand at her.  She walked over to the red faced, angry cadet and out of manners, he held his arm out for her to take.  “Ma’am, if you can explain anything, you’ll be a saint in my eyes.” Bones said.  The small woman laughed up at him.

     “I don’t think it will come to that, and call me Amanda.” She said, walking away with Bones.

     Pike shook his head, “That’s a very brave wife you have there Mr. Ambassador.”

     “That trait has served her well over the years, Captain.  It is to be admired.”

     By the time they got back from their discussion, where Amanda had led Bones a short distance away from the group, he had calmed down some, but a look of shock and disbelief had replaced most of his anger.  He still glared daggers at Pike and now at Sarek.

     “Of all the bonehead, idiotic things to do.  You, I can excuse, sort of, you don’t have kids,” Bones said to Pike, “But you, Mr. Ambassador, I can’t.  I have a kid, you have a kid, this kind of manipulation never works on them.  You were asking for trouble, if you ask me.  Which none of you did, may I remind you, because I sure as hell, beg pardon ladies, wouldn’t have let you two put this scheme together!”

     “Are you done?” Pike asked, “Because friend of Jim’s or not, I’m this close to giving you several demerits and finding a brig to throw you in.  You’re here because you are Jim’s friend and a doctor, which we might be needing pretty soon.”

     At this Bones perked up, or got angrier, Pike couldn’t tell at this point, his face got so red.  Pike just threw up his hands and turned to Uhura, “Girl with the talented tongue, you talk to him.”

     “Leonard.” Uhura said again, pulling the angry man’s attention to her.

     “And you still haven't explained what you're doing here!” Bones barked.

     Uhura gripped his arm and shook it, hard.  “Will you shut up for once and stop thinking about what it is you want to say and actually listen to us!?  Yes, they,” Uhura pointed between Pike and Sarek, “tried to manipulate their kids, we get that.  They get that, it was a big gamble, it was stupid and illogical.”  At this Pike sputtered out a “Hey!” and Sarek raised one delicately pointed eyebrow.  Amanda laughed.  Uhura flapped her hand at them and continued speaking to McCoy, “But there’s something bigger going on here, that you don’t even know about, which is why they brought me in.  Why would they bring me in Leonard?”

     Distracted, Bones looked at Uhura, really looked at her, the small creases in her forehead wrinkled above eyes filled with concern.  She was top of her class and unmatched in Communications and Linguistics.  Languages unfurled like a flower to the sun under her laser focus.  “They needed something translated?”  He asked, for lack of any better ideas.

     “Yes, Len, yes.  The errand that they sent Jim on, should have been easy, but,” Uhura glanced at Pike, who nodded, “one of the Admiralty found out what Pike was arranging and hired someone to stop Jim and steal what he was carrying from Vulcan.  Once Pike discovered what had happened, from an anonymous source, they kind of went into cloak and dagger mode.”

     “Stop and steal!” Bones hissed, he looked to Uhura appreciatively, “So they brought you in to eavesdrop?”

     “Basically, I also figured out a couple of other things.” Uhura said, smiling at him.  She brought up her PADD and waved it around.

     “Who’s the dirty fish in the tank?  Whoever it is, is going down, aren’t they?”  Bones looked up at Pike and Sarek for reassurance, but they both silently shook their heads.

     “This wasn’t officially sanctioned, McCoy, and both your attendance records have been...altered, Jim’s especially.  You’ve been accounted for due to the _Andromeda_ , but I sent Jim off the Starfleet reservation.” Pike looked guilty, “The stop and steal plan we discovered, was personally financed through accounts we couldn’t trace without a warrant, and then only with an explanation of how I manipulated Starfleet and Vulcan’s resources.”

     “So there’s no recourse or punishment, for the dirtbag Admiral who did something incredibly stupid to one of the good guys.  That’s a trip and a damn shame.  Maybe your son is better off out of Starfleet.”  Bones grumbled to the Ambassador, who only inclined his head in acknowledgement.

     “I don’t think so,” said Amanda, smiling gently at Bones, “I think he’d fit in perfectly here.  You are infinitely more exciting than the VSA.”  Sarek turned and lifted one eyebrow at his wife.

     “He’ll get what’s coming to him, eventually.  The people that were hired know how to make someone miserable,” Pike said, thumping McCoy on the back.

     “Great, well, that explains everything, except for why I’m still here.  You said you might need me.” Bones said.  He was wondering why they just didn’t shuffle him off to his dorm room like a good little boy to unpack and wait.  

     “We need you to remove what Jim has, you’re the only medical personnel that knows what he has and where it is.  We can’t take him to Starfleet Medical without having to answer way too many questions.  We also don’t know what sort of condition Jim and Spock will be in when we get them here.  Which is why this hangar has been cleared.  You’ll find medical equipment in that med shuttle.”  Pike pointed to the shuttle directly behind them.  The door swished open and Bones recognized his fellow Med school classmate, Christine Chapel, and Pike’s secretary, Martha as they exited the shuttle.

     “Hey Len,” Christine said, “Everything is prepped for whatever comes in.  Heard Orions can be a bit rough.”  She stepped up to Bones and smiled in what he assumed was a reassuring manner.

     “Hold on, hold on.  What do you mean, Orions.”

     “Oh dear, he doesn’t know?”  Christine murmured, she turned to Pike.

     “We kind of left that part out.” Uhura interjected, looking at Bones out of the corner of her eyes.

     Bones opened his mouth to let out the stream of expletives he was holding back and raised a finger to Uhura’s chest, but he was interrupted when Pike’s comm chose that moment to go off.  Pike flipped it open and a feminine voice filled the air.

     “Incoming, ETA, five minutes!  We’re still under cloak, hope you got some bandaids on hand, looks like we’re gonna need ‘em!”

     “We’re good to go, see you in Delta hangar, over.”

     “Roger, roger, Captain Sexy, over and out!” Chirped the female.

     “You know what, don’t tell me anything else.  With Jim, I’m literally going to have to see it to believe it and then I’m gonna yell some more at you fine folks.”  Bones said, glaring around at everyone before he made his way into the med shuttle to find a scrub shirt and sterilize himself.

 

      The hangar doors glided open under Martha and Uhura’s guidance, with one minute to spare, everyone kept their eyes on the opening.  “There,” Uhura breathed out, she caught the odd flicker of motion against the night sky and opened her comm to Pike, “Incoming, clear the area.”  She watched as Pike and the rest of their crew stepped back beside the med shuttle.  She felt the whoosh of air and engines as the craft passed by them.

     Martha entered the codes for the hangar door to close and then double checked on the program she had introduced into the security system when they gained access to the hangar.  It’s job was to wipe sections of security video and operation commands from a few days ago through this evening and for another couple of days.  She also uploaded a looped recording with missing chunks of time.  By the time Starfleet found the discrepancies, the program would have dumped itself when they left and the screwy security footage would cover several days and nothing would stand out.  They would have never been there.  “We’re still good,” she whispered to Uhura.  

     The women turned to climb down from their stations to return to their group, when they heard McCoy’s raised voice.  “Uh oh.” Uhura said.  She looked at Martha who only shook her head, Martha’s comm sounded and when she flipped it open, they both heard Pike, “GET DOWN HERE NOW!”

     “Oh dear,” Martha said, closing the comm.  She looked at Uhura and as one, they broke into a run.  They arrived on scene to see Pike trying to hold McCoy back, as he struggled to get past him to a robed figure with shaggy hair, an oddly painted green face and pointed ears.  There was a scantily clad Orion standing in front of the robed figure with her arms spread wide, attempting to shield him.  Another robed figure lay on the floor, barefeet painted green, curled on it’s side.  Christine was kneeling over the still form, peeling the robes away trying to look for a pulse.  Amanda and Sarek stood rooted to the floor, unmoving.  Amanda was biting her lip as she looked back and forth between the little scenes of people.

     Uhura ignored the shouting, red faced McCoy and the Orion female that was yelling back at him.  She and Martha rushed to Christine’s side.  Uhura gasped as Christine finally managed to tug the hood of the robe away to reveal Jim Kirk’s face, smeared with green paint and red blood, bruised and pale underneath all the additional coloring.  Christine looked up to meet both of their eyes and gave a small grim smile and nod, Uhura sighed and Martha muttered, “That’s a relief.”

     “QUIET!” Uhura bellowed into the melee.  She looked around to see everyone looking down at them.  The new people she didn’t know, were looking down at her, one sad and the other defiant.  She turned back to Christine.  It looked like the men were going to be useless for awhile, “What do you need,” she murmured.

     “I need to get him out of this robe, off the floor and into the med shuttle so I can evaluate his condition.”

     Martha and Uhura ran into the shuttle for the air stretcher and returned as quickly as they could, meanwhile, in the break of arguing, McCoy finally managed to get the words out that he needed to say, to the person who needed them said to.  He pointed at the other robed figure and quietly said, “God damn you.  I left him with you in perfect condition and you bring him back like this.” McCoy shot both hands down at the still figure.

     “It’s not all his fault,” the Orion female said softly.  “My people did this, and I was part of it.  Spock did his best, although,” she glanced briefly back at the Vulcan behind her, “He did do the last bit.” McCoy’s eyes flew open at this and he lunged for Spock.  Pike grabbed McCoy around the waist and they both fell to the floor.

     “Watch it!” Christine hissed at the two.  Uhura stepped over McCoy, while Martha put a boot into Pike’s back as she stepped over him.

     “We’re really sorry,” Gaila said, “honestly, aren’t we Spock?”  She elbowed him, but he stood silent.

     “Spock.” Amanda said softly, looking from her son, down to the people working on the small figure on the floor.

     Spock looked from his parents to Pike, who was still wrestling with Jim’s man friend on the floor.  Pike looked back at him, his gray eyes wide in surprise, before he turned his attention back to McCoy.

     “You knew my wishes,” Spock said softly to Pike.  He turned to face his parents, “As did you, Sarek, Mother.”  

     “My son.” Sarek whispered in acknowledgement.

     Spock gave a slight inclination of his head and removed his robe.  He swiped it swiftly across his face, removing most of the green paint from his face before handing it to Gaila.  She took it gladly, if only to give her something to wrap around her and ward off the chill of the building.  Spock turned silently away from her and began to walk away.  It wasn’t until he was halfway across the hangar to the exit, that Gaila finally figured out he wasn’t staying.  She ran barefoot across the hard floor as fast as she could, a green blur behind a dark figure.  “Spock, stop.  Where are you going?” She asked, reaching him and grasping around to grab a handful of the lapel to his jacket.

     “Remove your hand,” he said.

     “Or what, you’ll do to me what you did to Jimmy boy?  I’m sorry,” she said in a kinder tone, when she felt the small shudder run through him.  “I’m sorry,” she said again.  “Please come back, he won’t understand!  I don’t even understand!”

     “Both you and Jim have done what you wish,” Spock said, “I only wish to be able to do the same.  Please let go.”

     Gaila studied him for one moment longer.  Part of being an Orion was reading body language.  He would come back.  She nodded and let go of his jacket, smoothing it down.  “Don’t be a stranger, stranger.  Comm me,” she smiled, giving him a wink and stretched up to give him a quick peck on the cheek.  Spock departed in the dark, the night sky of San Francisco above his head, the stars in an unfamiliar alignment lighting his way out.

 

     The fall semester had started at the Academy and Admiral Komack walked across the main campus to his office on the first day.  He loved this time of year and always took the time to walk back and forth across campus in between the major class breaks.  He loved causing the freshmen to stop and salute him sharply when they recognized the bars on his uniform.  It always caught them off guard, their eyes would pass over him once, then twice and then a slight splash of fear, before they came to attention at his passing.  Occasionally, he would stop to talk to one of them if they showed signs of fawning.  

     Komack was currently enjoying the salutes, a pastry in the small paper bag he carried, a PADD in the other, he knew he looked casual and reachable to the new freshmen.  He was beaming at the ones saluting him and nodding his head, until he slowed his pace when out of the corner of his eye, he caught some commotion at the Zefram Cochrane fountain.  

     His new secretary, Martin, bumped into him out of inattention.  Komack rolled his eyes, how many secretaries was he going to have to go through before one of them stopped being a complete idiot, he could barely remember their names.  Clint had been reassigned following their failure to secure the warp drive schematics and lose Kirk permanently.  Komack had threatened him with his career and beyond if he revealed anything to anyone.  At least he couldn’t get into any trouble on a remote station on Delta Vega.

    Komack turned his head to look at what had slowed his walk, Martin was still stuttering out apologies before going silent and looking in the direction that the Admiral was now looking in.  Martin frowned until he caught sight of a group of cadets horsing around near the Cochrane fountain.  

     One bright head of hair bobbed up and down as a cadet jumped onto the edge of the fountain to walk along it.  Martin quickly identified him as James Kirk, Ret. Admiral George Kirk’s son.  The other’s he didn’t recognize, but he saw a brunette male cadet yelling up at Kirk, with three female cadets standing to the side.  One was tall, with shoulder length, ice blond hair, another shorter and willowy, with dark skin and hair pulled back in a long ponytail, the third was a curvy Orion, green skinned with curly red hair.  The three women were chatting and ignoring the two men.  They were a markedly attractive and noisy group, catching the attention of several students passing by.  Martin shrugged and went back to organizing the Admiral’s schedule on his PADD, missing the Vulcan, with the shiny cap of dark hair, wearing cadet reds slowly approach the fountain.

     Admiral Komack didn’t miss it.  His lip lifted in a curl.  They had to admit the Vulcan this fall, he had passed every entrance exam with perfect scores and it was the feather in the Admiralty’s cap, that for the first time, a Vulcan had deigned to step foot across the threshold of Starfleet Academy to grace their halls.  Several captains were already drooling over the new half-breed prospect and the Sciences departments were having fits of ecstasy.  Komack was grinding his teeth and eating his porcelain veneers, over how much money that Vulcan and Orion had cost him.

     Following the successful escape of Kirk and Spock from the Hunter, by the Orion traitor in their midst, now attending Starfleet Academy, his money had been absorbed and all traces of the Hunter disappeared.  Marie’s House of Pain and Pleasure disappeared into thin air as well.  There was no one left for Komack to go after, except for the cadets.  Every attempt to make Kirk’s life a living hell had been met with him turning those shocking blue eyes on him like spotlights, stare him down, smile and then fire imaginary pistols at him.  Cadets McCoy, Chapel, Uhura and Gaila would politely salute and speak to him when necessary, but more often than not, they avoided him.  To his suspicious mind, when they didn’t avoid him, they were all gave him knowing looks, those bastards.  

     Komack gritted his teeth and crushed his pastry bag in his hands.  Martin looked up at the sound and went to say something, before Komack smashed it against the secretary’s chest and said, “Get me another one, a fresh one and don’t take all day about it.”

     Martin was left to stand open mouthed at the strange behavior and order, before belatedly saluting and hurrying off to do the Admiral’s bidding.  Komack proceeded to make his way swiftly to HQ ignoring all the new freshmen saluting him.  He swallowed more enamel from his back molars as the laughs and loud voices came from the direction of the fountain.

 

     “Stop pretending you’re all right, and get off that damn fountain before you drown yourself!” Bones yelled up at Jim, who had climbed up onto the Cochrane Fountain and was dancing and balancing along the edge.

     “You can’t drown in 3 feet of water Bones, also, I am all right.” Jim called down.

     “You can so drown in less than three feet of water, you idiot, it only takes an inch.  And you are not all right.  Uhura, tell him he’s not all right!” Bones yelled up at Jim, but was addressing her at the same time.

     “He’s never been all right, so I don’t know what constant you’re forming the basis of your analysis on, Len.” Uhura replied, her attention still on her new roommate, who was describing her latest conquests.  “How many?  Jesus, Gaila, I’m going to have to limit how many uh, people, you bring back to the room at one time.  And no,” she said holding up her hand to stop any further comments from Gaila at the moment, “there will not be a line forming outside of our room.  People will get the wrong idea about me and you.  You, I’m okay with, but me, I have a reputation to maintain.”

     “What’s a reputation?” Gaila asked.

     “It means that you get to be known as the person that always sleeps around for sexy time with whomever shows up.”

     “I’m all right with that, aren’t I?  Jim, I’m all right with that, right?” Gaila asked, calling up to Jim.

     Jim laughed, “Yes Gaila, you are, but Uhura isn’t.  Remember, human, not Orion.  There’s a difference in species behavior, remember.”

     A soft, deep voice interrupted their conversation, “That is a true statement.  Something I recall learning once, from an Orion, myself.”

     Jim froze on the edge of the fountain  in mid-dance, at that voice, how could he ever forget that voice.  It pained him to remember, but he kept his eyes on Gaila.  Her gorgeous blue eyes widened a fraction at the sound of the same voice.  In fact, everyone had come to a stop.

     “Stranger!” Gaila squealed.  She turned to run to Spock, but before she could collide with him, she became distracted by the color of Spock’s clothing and snapped herself back up.  “Red, you’re wearing red.  You’re wearing a cadet uniform in RED!”  She squealed as she poked Spock in the chest.  “And you’re real!  You’re really here!  What did you do to your hair?  I love it!” She reached up and ruffled the shiny bowl cut before smoothing it back down.

     “Yes, Gaila.” Spock looked down at her smoothing his hair, he allowed it for a moment before stepping out of reach and finishing what she had attempted to fix.  “I had promised myself some time away from Vulcan and Earth, before I made a decision regarding my acceptance into Starfleet or the VSA.  I could not, at any earlier time, acquiesce to Pike’s wishes, or anyone else’s wishes for me to enter one of those institutions, before my time was up.  A promise is a promise, even to oneself.”

     “You stupid, stubborn, Seussian, Vulcan elephant,” Jim said quietly as he hopped down from the fountain.  He slowly approached Spock as one does a wild thing.  He halted next to Gaila, who had stepped back to make room.  

     Spock looked down into the second pair of blue eyes, so different from Gaila’s, a color he would never quite be able to define, and said, “Jim.” Before he could continue, a fist came flying out from somewhere behind Jim and made contact with his face.  

     “You knew!  You knew this whole time and you didn’t say anything?  You son of a bitch, you left him in that condition and it could all have been avoided!” Bones yelled.

     Spock wiped at his lip, he smeared green along the cuff of his sleeve, a dark stain against the red.  He looked up into the blazing eyes of Bones, who was being held back by Jim.  Gaila had frozen in the middle once again stretching her arms out, palms open, hesitant to touch either, but wanting to help both.  “Well, I knew he would be back.” Gaila said, “If that helps.”

     Everyone turned to stare at her, except Spock, his eyes were still focused on Jim.  

     “What the hell do you mean by that?” Bones asked, rubbing his knuckles, “Ow.”

     “Aw, does poor widdle Len have a boo boo?” Uhura asked, eyebrows raised at McCoy.  She hooked her thumb over to Christine.  “Why don’t you give them a minute and get some first aid on your delicate doctor hands.  You too, Gaila.  I’ll explain monogamy again.”

     “Oooh, that sounds sexually boring.  Coming!” She chirped and wrapped her arm gently around Bones’s waist, “I’ll just help hold Lenny back, in case he thinks about getting all manly again.  Wanna get all manly with me later?  Uhura, he can count as my one for today, right?  That’s monogamy isn’t it?”

     Bones sputtered some incoherent answer out as the women surrounded him to carry him away.  Jim heard Gaila’s last remark to Uhura, “I knew Spock would come back, because have you seen Jim’s ass?”

     Jim put his head in his hands and rubbed both of them over his face, “Oh my God, and she likes me.  Do you know how much trouble Orions are if they actually LIKE you, as a friend?”

     “I imagine the same amount of trouble a Vulcan would be, if they considered someone...a friend.”

     Jim looked up through his fingers, “Am I considered your friend?  Do Vulcans even have friends, I mean, Nevvie and Tevvie were assigned to us, but they seemed to get along with each other and us, but it’s not like we kept in touch.  Do Vulcans even do pen pals?  Am I rambling, I’m rambling aren’t I?  I’ll shut up.”

     “I do not mind the sound of your voice, but no, Vulcans do not have friends.” Spock said honestly, but he could tell by Jim’s face, that this was a disappointing answer.

     “Oh,” Jim said, in a small voice, “Well, it would have been...interesting.” He gave Spock a small smile, “So, just, I know we didn’t end well, but still, thanks.  Thank you, even though it’s illogical.  I’ll be seeing you around?  Campus, because obviously, you’re here and enrolled and all.  Sorry about Bones.”  Jim looked away to where his friends were slowly walking away, each of them peeking back at them out of curiosity.  Gaila waved.  He rubbed the back of his head briskly, the awkward moment getting awkwarder.

     Spock watched Jim watch his friends and saw the flush of color rise up his neck.  “I can not accept your gratitude, I did nothing to earn it.  I also believe that once again, you misunderstand me.  Vulcans do not have friends, but humans do have friends, I believe.  Is that correct?”

     Jim turned sharply to regard Spock, “Yeah, we do.  I have Bones and a couple other people, and I suppose, Gaila now.  She’s a trip, I think she likes you too.”

     “I am divided in finding that gratifying and a dangerous concept that I do not wish to focus on developing further, due to the nature of Orion females.  As I was saying, humans have friends and they are also known for apologizing for the most inane occurrences.”  Spock said and hesitated here, as Jim watched him warily.  Spock flicked a look back to Jim’s friends, “Therefore, since I am half-human and I must come to a balance of some sort with that, in time, it would be remiss if I did not start it with...Jim, I am sorry.  It is my wish that we can maintain a cordial atmosphere towards each other during my time at the Academy.”  Spock finished quickly, speaking such words was painful for his Vulcan half.

     “Spock,” Jim said, as he turned towards his friends and began to walk, motioning Spock to walk along with him, he waited a few breaths before turning to study Spock’s severe profile.   “I accept your apology, but I still give you my thanks.  And just so we’re clear, are you telling me that you’re finally starting to get along with that little green man what lives inside of you, and he agreed to let you finally make friends?”

     With relief, Spock’s posture eased as he fell in step with Jim, who was laughing up at him, “Ah, I see that Mr. Kyle was not a good influence on matters regarding Vulcans, and that I must correct the erroneous impression that he has left with you.” Spock muttered.

    “We have all the time in the world, Spock.  All the time.  Whatever happened to Mr. Kyle?” Jim frowned,looking down in though, “The last thing I remember is that I launched him into space and no one ever said anything else about him.  I didn’t even think to ask!”

     “Mr. Kyle was retrieved by the company, each emergency escape pod has a locator beacon that goes active the moment the eject button is pressed.  He is currently annoying another courier.  He asked me to convey this message were I ever to see you again.  He said that he was sorry to see me go, as I was the most efficient courier he ever worked with and to say, hello and that he hopes you make that little green bastard suffer at Starfleet, but in a good way.  I am afraid I do not fully understand what he meant.  Suffering is meant to be painful.”

     Jim laughed at Spock for diligently repeating what Mr. Kyle had said, and sailed merrily across the sidewalk with Spock, until they caught up to the group.  McCoy warily greeted them, still eyeing Spock out of the side of his eyes, before nodding and turning to Christine to start another argument about Klingon anatomy.  Gaila fairly danced around them in her excitement and took Jim’s hand, where he curled her against his side to halt her from making him dizzy.  Uhura’s eyes lit up and she skipped around to take up the position on Spock’s other side to begin an interrogation, in Jim’s mind, about the differences within the Vulcan and Romulan languages regarding syntax and the conjugation of verbs.  Jim looked up at the bright San Francisco sky, the gleaming buildings and the shuttle traffic to the hangars.  He looked over to the glossy, neat and sharp edges of Spock’s hair, reflecting the sun, as he focused his attention on answering Uhura’s questions.  Jim smiled into Gaila’s madly curling hair, it was going to be a great year.


End file.
